Tom Riddle Lives
by Phoenix Tears Type 6
Summary: ......Redone as Sonnet 18....... Meggie, and other confused readers, click the author link and look for Sonnet 18 as a seperate story. That last post wasn't a chapter, it was a preview. This version is discontinued and will remain as such.
1. Redemption

Tom Riddle Lives  
  
He raised his wand-  
  
Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and something fell into Harry's lap - the diary.  
  
For a split second, both Harry and Riddle, wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Harry seized the Basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book.  
  
There as a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing, and then-  
  
Green eyes locked with green eyes. Harry could almost feel the pain and torment the young Voldemort was in. Excruciating pain and regret, along with fear, seemed to radiate from the suffering eternal youth. Harry didn't know what force compelled him to do what he did, but for some reason, he knew he had to do it.  
  
"Fawkes!" He called, desperately, to the Phoenix. Without hesitation, the magnificent bird swooped down and hovered over the nearly faded image of Tom Riddle. It lowered it's head over the Slytherin's form and cried great, pearly tears. Harry, during this time, desperately pulled at the fang submerged within the diary. He pulled it free and fell backwards, and watched in awe as the diary started to mend itself. Fawkes too sat back to admire his handy work on the 16 year old dark lord.  
  
Tom Riddle was on his back, in the middle of a pool of ink and blood. His breathing was ragged, but starting to even out. His eyes, which had closed, fluttered back open and immediately found their way to Harry's eyes.  
  
"Why?" Was the only word he managed to pant.  
  
"Because of something Dumbledor told me," Harry replied, only now realizing the reason why he spared the Riddler's life. "Everyone deserves a second chance. You're not Voldemort yet. You're just a teenager who needs time."  
  
"But I just tried to kill you. . . all those things I said to you. . ."  
  
"You'll have plenty of time to make up for it later." Harry cautiously walked over to Tom's side and crouched down. "Do you know a spell to duplicate something?"  
  
"Yes. . ." Tom answered, looking bewildered. His breathing had evened out again, and he sat propped up on one elbow, still regaining his lost energy. "Duplitus Reflexis. What's that got to do with anything?"  
  
"Everything." Harry pointed his wand at the newly restored diary. "Duplitus Reflexis." Immediately, a copy of the journal appeared. Harry picked up the Basilisk fang again and chopped a hole through the center of the copy. He safely tucked the original into his cloak. Tom's eyes widened in realization.  
  
"You're covering for me?" he gasped, in disbelief. "You're not telling anyone?"  
  
"I'm at least telling Dumbledor. But no, I'm not telling anyone else. It would be impossible for you to live a normal life if everything thought you were already Voldemort."  
  
"Live," Tom muttered. "You broke my connection to the girl's life force," he said, jerking his head to Ginny's recovering form. "How CAN I live?"  
  
"The Phoenix tears restored your life force. You won't need to steal Ginny's in order to live."  
  
For a moment, both boys sat in silence, thinking about what had just happened. Then, unexpectedly, Harry felt strong arms wrap around him and a head bury into his shoulder. He could faintly hear a muffled 'thank you' through soft, low sobs.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Dumbledor had been quite understanding and encouraging when Harry related his story about what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets. Tom appeared to be in something of a trance, and remained quiet, his eyes never leaving Harry's form. Harry handed the original diary to Dumbledor for safe keeping, and the fake was used to gain Dobby's freedom. Lucius Malfoy had assumed that his master was dead, and since he never knew Voldemort's original name was Tom Riddle (he never read the diary, just knew that it had been Voldemort's), he had no idea that the black haired, green eyed 16 year old next to Harry was his former master.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Tom smiled fondly at the memory while sitting up in bed after a disturbing nightmare. It was the summer between Harry's fourth and fifth year. The memory had was of the first time he had seen his friend, his companion, little brother, and in a sense, son. It was the first time he had seen the person who he'd be fiercely protective of in years to come. Tom looked over at Harry's still sleeping form and smiled proudly. ::Just let someone try and hurt him now::, he thought bitterly. ::They'll have me to deal with. Just try it, Voldemort.::  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Ok, as you can see, this fic will center on Tom and Harry, and their friendship. There will be lots of flashbacks to scenes in some of the HP books, only with Tom included, or scenes with Tom that I just made up. Tom and Harry will have a pretty close relationship, and be very dependant on one another, but this will not be a slash. It's strictly friendship. This was just the intro, the other chappies will be longer. This first part started near the end of Chamber of Secrets, just with Harry's compassion winning over in the end.  
  
For those of you waiting for the other fics to be updated, I haven't died. I've just been really busy. I promise I'll update them asap.  
  
Please read and review! I like reviews! Tell me what you think of it so far, and whether or not I should really put the time into it to continue. 


	2. Dueling Thoughts

Tom Riddle Lives  
  
~*Tom Riddle's flashback*~  
  
It was the very end of Harry's second year. Tom was given a room that he could stay in so none of the other students would see him. Harry had stopped by, occasionally, to give him things like new clothes and books and such, since Tom had none. Tom could feel that Harry was slightly uncomfortable in his presence. He didn't exactly seem to know how to act around the past form of his tormenter. Tom always studied Harry carefully, his eyes never leaving his form. For some reason, Harry interested Tom, and not just because Harry had spared him and given him a life force.  
  
"You're tense," Tom said on Harry's fourth visit, his arms full with new robes the Headmaster had ordered for Tom.  
  
"Good of you to notice," Harry said sarcastically, though not cruelly.  
  
"Why are you so tense? Are you afraid of me?"  
  
Harry had expected to hear Tom's voice mocking, or pleased at the prospect of still being able to frighten his future downfall. But to Harry's immense surprise, Tom had spoken it as an honest question. He was regarding Harry curiously, and he seemed slightly nervous about Harry's answer.  
  
"Yes and no," Harry finally said. "I'm not afraid of you, right now at least. I'm just afraid of what you might become." Tom blinked at Harry's honesty.  
  
"Do you think that I'll become another Voldemort?"  
  
"I don't know. You said in the Chamber that you intended on rejoining him, but due to current events, I'm not sure if you've changed your mind." Harry finished and looked at Tom, who was now silent. "I need to go now, Ron and Hermione are waiting for me. I'll be back tomorrow to say goodbye."  
  
"Ron and Hermione?"  
  
"Two of my best friends. Ron's little sister is the one you tried to kill."  
  
"Oh." Tom again was silent, and Harry took this as a dismissal. He stood up and turned to leave. As he reached the door, Tom spoke one more time.  
  
"Wait." Harry turned around, slightly surprised, and waited for Riddle to say whatever was on his mind. "You promise?"  
  
"Promise what?"  
  
"That you'll come by again tomorrow before you go."  
  
Harry's lips formed a smile. "Sure I will. I'll bring Ron and Hermione with me too. I'm sure they'd like to meet you." Harry paused and finally asked a question he had been wondering about for a while. "Will you be staying at Hogwarts?"  
  
"All summer," Tom said, disdainfully. "Under the supervision of the Headmaster and a few of the professors. At least it's better than the orphanage was. . ." Harry's expression was troubled at those last words. Tom expected to see the look of sympathy that everyone had always given him, that look that angered him and made him want to curse them into oblivion. Instead, he saw Harry's look was one of understanding. Tom wasn't sure if this should disturb him or console him.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
The summer had passed by exceedingly slow for Tom Riddle. He had been allowed out of his room to roam the castle freely. Only Dumdbledor, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout knew Tom's true identity. They had all been quite stunned, and in Snape's case infuriated, but they accepted the Headmaster's orders to let the boy be. The rest of the staff were told that Tom was a new student who was orphaned by Voldemort's attacks. Technically, it was true, Tom had mused, since he did kill his own father.  
  
Often Tom had thought about what he should do. He thought about how he could escape the professor's ever-watchful presence so he could flee and rejoin his future self. But then he'd think of Harry, and his words. Did Tom really want to become a Dark Lord now? Did he really want to give up this chance at a new life? And even more, he knew that if he found his future self, Harry would be as good as dead. Did Tom really want to kill the boy that had saved him, the same boy that could be a potential friend? He constantly shook his head at these thoughts. He had always known what he wanted in the past, but now he was not so sure. So he allowed himself to temporarily be confined to the castle, until he knew what he wanted.  
  
The start of term approached, and Tom was waiting in the Great Hall, at the Slytherin table, for the other students to arrive. He felt somewhat anxious, he had some questions for Harry. Students started to file into the hall, each one sitting at their respective tables. A blonde haired boy, who looked to be about Harry's age, sat next to Tom, and two rather large looking boys sat to his right.  
  
"Hello, I haven't seen you before. What's your name?" the blonde boy asked.  
  
"Riddle. Tom Riddle. I'm a transfer student. What's your name?"  
  
"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. So you're a Slytherin?"  
  
"Yes, naturally. The best house out of the four, wouldn't you say?"  
  
Draco smirked. "Most definitely. It's good to see someone else has enough common sense to know what they should go for in life, unlike those Gryffindors." Draco said the word with such disgust, that Tom knew that the boy must have had a personal vendetta against at least one of them.  
  
"Are there any Gryffindors I should know about?" Tom asked, offhandedly.  
  
"Yes," Draco replied instantly. "First there's the 'famous Harry Potter'. The fool, he's nothing but trouble. Everything about him is horrible. Then there's the Mudblud friend of his, Hermione Granger. She's a Mudblud, so enough said. Then there's the muggle loving fool Ron Weasley. He's a pureblood, but he doesn't appreciate the importance of pure blood dominancy like Salazar Slytherin did. It's best to try to upset those three, make them miserable for the things they'll never understand. Merlin, I wish Potter had died along with his parents."  
  
Tom gritted his teeth slightly. Since when did he care when someone insulted Harry? Speaking of which, Tom started looking towards the Gryffindor table. He couldn't find Harry or his bushy haired and red head friend.  
  
"Where IS Harry?" Tom asked, scanning the heads of the students.  
  
"Potter?" Draco asked. "Probably went running to the hospital wing. When the Dementors came on the train, he had a fit and passed out!" Draco evidently loved this fact, but Tom could understand why Harry would react like that to a Dementor. Tom also knew that if a Dementor ever came near him, he'd probably pass out too.  
  
Tom sat at the Slytherin table, listening to Malfoy's talk about really anything, and kept looking around for any sign of Harry. Finally, at the end of the sorting, he saw three figures, two of which he had only seen once, make there way to the Gryffindor table. Harry's gaze turned to the Slytherin table and they locked eye contact for a moment. He shot Tom a warm, brief smile before turning his attention back to what was going on with his friends. Tom found this oddly comforting.  
  
Tom's first meeting with Ron and Hermione had been interesting. Hermione seemed a bit leery around him, especially since he HAD been responsible for paralyzing her. Harry had had to calm down Ron at first, since he had not forgiven or forgotten what Tom had done to Ginny. Eventually, they had managed to have a pretty civilized, though slightly tense, conversation.  
  
"Are you alright?" A voice interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see the blonde boy called Malfoy giving him a quizzical look. "You keep staring off. Are you ill?"  
  
"No," Tom replied. "I'm fine. Just thinking." Draco shrugged and continued with his meal. At the end of the meal, Tom felt a pang of jealousy as he watched Harry leave with his Gryffindor friends. For some reason, he wanted Harry's friendship all to himself.  
  
Tom gasped at his own thoughts. ::So, I've decided then,:: he thought, somewhat amusedly to himself. ::I won't rejoin my future self.:: He didn't know why, but for some strange reason, he felt particularly drawn to the Boy-Who-Lived.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
"Riddle," a deep voice said from behind him. Tom Riddle was just about to enter the Slytherin dungeons, until he heard his name. He turned around to face Professor Snape, who was still barely able to keep his temper in check around the former tyrant.  
  
"Yes Professor," Tom answered, neutrally.  
  
"In order for your schedule to be made, we need to know what year you will be in. I believe it is seventh, correct?"  
  
Tom knew this was true, but suddenly found he didn't wish to be in seventh year. "I'd like to retake third year," he answered, confidently. Snape snorted.  
  
"Please, be serious Mr. Riddle. At the very least, I'd think you'd take fifth year. But third year? That'd be child's play for you."  
  
"I want to be in third year." Tom said, firmly. "I don't care what you say, I want to be in third year." Snape regarded him for a moment before nodding.  
  
"Fine. It's your brain to waste. What will your two extra classes be?"  
  
Tom thought for a moment. "Divination and Care of Magical Creatures." Without saying another word, both of them left to go their separate ways.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
That night, Tom found that sleep was not going to come easy to him. The Slytherin rooms now felt unfamiliar and strangely disturbing. The room he had been in was a Gryffindor one, and, angry as he was to admit it, he wished he could be sleeping in the Gryffindor room, or even better, in the room that Harry and his friends shared. It'd feel so safe in there. . .  
  
Tom felt disgusted with himself. He was a Slytherin. He was the HEIR of Slytherin. Never ever EVER would he be caught as a Gryffindor. . . right?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Tom stopped his memories again, as he heard a slight whimper come from Harry's bed. He glanced worriedly at the figure under the white sheets in the hospital wing, and finally sat by the chair next to his bed to perch worriedly over it. He could tell right away that Harry was going to start having another nightmare. Instantly, Tom starting stroking his friend's hair, murmuring words of comfort, though they would prove useless. He hoped that Harry's nightmare's wouldn't be too severe tonight.  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Well, it's nice to see that so far all the reviews are positive! Heh, that's always a good thing. Now, as I said, this is going to basically be about the friendship of Tom and Harry. They couldn't instantly be friends, that would be too ooc for Tom, so I'm going to show how they gradually come to depend on each other. It won't take too long, just long enough to make it convincing. Also, the majority of this will take place in flashbacks of Tom remembering events from the end of second year through the end of fourth year. Then it'll return to what's happening in the present and how Tom's going to deal with it.  
  
Now, thanks go out to:  
  
Kneaha Minerva: Thank you! This is looking like it'll be a pretty long fanfic, probably the longest I'm going to write, so you'll be getting tons more.  
  
lady sakura: Naturally, I'll keep writing more. Thanks for the compliment, and the review is greatly appreciated.  
  
Sophie W.: Eep! Ok! I promise, this fic will probably be updated a lot more than my others since I'm actually happy about this one, so I'll keep updating!  
  
Emmasi: Lol, keep reading and you'll see what happens. As for Voldemort, you'll hafta see if he attacks. And in answer to your question, yeah Voldemort still exists even though Tom does too. Basically, everything happened close to the same as in all the books, just Tom altered some things slightly. I'm glad you like it so far!  
  
chibijed: As I said before, don't worry this will have MANY chapters. Lol. And I know what you mean. All the Tom Riddle fics I ever saw were either about Tom Riddle going through the transformation from Riddle to Voldemort, or they were a slash of somesort. I wanted to have a fic where Tom could go to school WITH Harry and the others, without it being a slash. Since I couldn't find any of those, I decided to take matters into my own hands *grins*.  
  
Envy Greeneyed: Thanks! And I'll update again really soon!  
  
Padfoot Rocks: And the genius author has made another appearance! *bows* And yes, I do like the idea of Tom and them becoming a sort of family unit. It frustrates me that there aren't ANY of those out there really, so that's why I was so glad when you took up my Harry adopts little Tom challenge! Thank you for forgiving me for not updating Terrible Shock, my concience feels so much better, lol. The bright side about this fic is that there is no PABAM to torment us! *suddenly looks terrified when PABAM gets an evil smirk* Uh oh... 


	3. Talons and Tea Leaves

Tom Riddle Lives  
  
This fic is dedicated to M.E. and King Jasbon, my Beta Readers  
  
Disclaimer: This chapter comes from chapter 6 of Prisoner of Azkaban. The plot of book three, nor the characters, belong to me. Only the changes I made to the story and what happens after Tom's flashbacks are over.  
  
~* Tom's flashback: First school day of third year*~  
  
Tom groaned as he woke up in the third year, boy's room. It was 5:30am, yet he felt wide-awake. There was no way he could get any more rest in this place. Sighing in resignation, he got up and started to get dressed. He started to put on one of the robes that Harry had brought to him a couple of months ago, but he remembered that black school robes were required for classes. He scowled as he put away the emerald robe he wanted to wear, and pulled out the coarse, dark, black robe with the Slytherin badge gleaming on it. He then spent about ten minutes on his hair; unlike Harry, he was quite fussy about it. He wrinkled his nose, remembering Harry's description of Voldemort. How could his future self allow himself to become so ugly? It was beyond Tom's reasoning. ::Another perk to turning down the prospect of joining the Dark Lord:: Tom thought. He constantly was reminding himself of the downsides of joining.  
  
Satisfied with his appearance, he left the room and went into the dreary Slytherin Common room. He settled in one of the uncomfortable chairs by the fireplace to read.  
  
"You are a true Slytherin," a voice commented from the stairs. Tom looked up and saw Malfoy walking down, a few of his friends behind him. "We all wake up early. Apparently, you're no exception. Come on, let's go down to the Great Hall."  
  
Deciding he had nothing better to do, Tom arose from his place and joined the group. Blaise Zabini was studying him carefully.  
  
"You're a third year?" he asked, sounding incredulous. "You look like a sixth or seventh year."  
  
"Technically, I am."  
  
"Then, why are you in third year?"  
  
"Because, I wanted to be." The other Slytherins stared at him strangely for a moment, then decided to drop it.  
  
"What's your surname?" Another boy by the name of Duke asked.  
  
"Riddle."  
  
"Riddle?" Draco said, slowly. "Strange, I haven't heard that name before. That bothers me, I thought I knew the names of all the pure blood families in Great Britain." Tom stiffened slightly, and clenched his jaw. Draco continued to contemplate the strange mystery of never hearing the surname of Riddle before, but finally shrugged. "Oh well, my apologies. At least I know of you now."  
  
The third year group finally reached the Hall and settled down in the same seats as before. Half of the Ravenclaws were already at their table. Two Hufflepuffs were up, and about twelve Gryffindors.  
  
By the time half an hour passed by, the hall was packed. Draco grinned and turned to Slytherins around him.  
  
"Hey, do you all remember Potter yesterday on the train? How he had that fit?" The group cracked up and turned away from their plates to direct their attention to Draco. "Oh no, the evil ickle Dementors are gonna get me! I can't die! I'm the boy who lived! Where's Dumbledor? I need to hide behind him!" he said, pretending to hyperventilate. "Ow, my precious scar!" He clasped his hand over his forehead, and started shaking. By now all the Slytherins and some of the Ravenclaws were in hysterics. Tom forced a slight laugh, but really felt more like slapping the annoying third year upside the head. He noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione enter the hall just as Draco did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit, which was met by another roar of laughter. Tom could see Hermione mouth to Harry to ignore him. Harry seemed to be taking her advice.  
  
"Hey, Potter!" Shrieked Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl with a face like a pug.  
  
::Shut up:: Tom thought, when he got a look at Harry's face. He didn't look flustered, but Tom could see the slight hurt in his eyes. He couldn't understand it, but he was starting to feel protective of the only person to truly show him compassion.  
  
"Potter! The dementors are coming, Potter! Wooooooo!"  
  
Tom watched Harry sit down next to one of the boys he had called George. One of Ron's many siblings. They started talking right away. Tom half wished that Harry would look over at him again, but he knew that would just earn more trouble from the other Slytherins. He glanced over at Malfoy in time to see him fake gasp, then faint over in terror again. The Slytherins cracked up laughing again, but Harry was too deep in conversation to notice.  
  
"Hey, we got our schedules," Neil Hookshaw, a fourth year, commented. Tom looked down at his. Divination was first. For a brief moment, Tom wondered why the heck he was even going through this. He preserved himself in his diary why? To retake school? His indignant feelings were short lived when he saw that his Divination class was to be a mix of all four houses. That meant that Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be in his class.  
  
Tom was startled when he suddenly saw the three golden Gryffindors quickly rise from their seat and start to leave the hall. Draco did yet another impression of Harry fainting. The shouts of laughter followed Harry into the entrance hall.  
  
Annoyed with Draco's behavior, Tom stood and left the Great Hall as well. As he walked, he looked down at his watch. It was 8:30. Had time really gone by so fast?  
  
As Tom got into the Entrance Hall, he looked around for any sign of Harry. He hadn't even got a chance to greet him, or ask him any sorts of questions. He had a million things he wanted to say to the young Gryffindor, yet he couldn't even say hello. One of the main questions he wanted to ask, which was bursting to be asked, was 'Do you forgive me?' Unfortunately, there was no sign of Harry anywhere. Deciding he'd see him in Divination, Tom took the hallway that he knew was the shortest way to the classroom. Over the summer, Tom had the chance to explore the school thoroughly. Though he hadn't found all the rooms and hallways to be found, he had a feeling he probably knew the school better than almost any other student. Ten minutes later, when he was halfway to the North Tower where Divination was held, he heard a somewhat familiar voice.  
  
"There's-got-to-be-a-shortcut-" Ron panted as he climbed a staircase with Hermione and Harry in tow. They emerged on a landing right below Tom's. They looked around, and saw nothing more than a large painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.  
  
"I think it's this way," Hermione said, peering down and empty passage to the right.  
  
"Can't be," said Ron. "That's south, look, you can see a bit of the lake out that window. . ."  
  
Harry's attention was on the painting. A fat, dapple-gray pony had just ambled onto the grass and was grazing nonchalantly. Harry was used to subjects of Hogwarts paintings moving around and leaving their frames to visit one another, but he always enjoyed watching it. A moment later, a short, squat knight in a suit of armor clanked into the picture after his pony. By the looks of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.  
  
"Aha!" he yelled, seeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"  
  
"Let them be, Sir Cadogan, they're just lost." All four of them looked up and saw Tom casually coming down the steps from his landing. Ron's eyes narrowed slightly, Hermione tensed a little, but forced a smile, and Harry just watched him, his expression not really changing.  
  
"It is young Tom! These be friends of yours?" The knight asked.  
  
"I suppose so, so let them be. Understand?"  
  
"Yes, indeed I do. You may pass." And with that, the knight paid no further attention to the little group.  
  
"You're lost, aren't you?" Tom said, mischievously.  
  
"No we're not. We'll get there," Ron defended. Hermione shot Ron a glare.  
  
"We do seem to be having slight difficulty, as we have never been to the Divination room before."  
  
"That's too bad," Tom said, as he started to turn away. He heard Ron mutter under his breath 'typical Slytherin'. He was suddenly aware, however, that someone was standing next to him. Harry stood determinedly by his side.  
  
"I'll go with you, since you seem to know where you're going," Harry said. "Ron? Hermione?"  
  
Both Ron and Hermione were gaping at him, hardly believing he was already willing to trust his would be assassin. "We'll pass," Ron said quickly.  
  
"Suit yourself. We'll see you there," Tom said. He started going back up the stairs with Harry at his side. Now was his chance to talk to Harry, with no one else to interrupt.  
  
Once Tom was sure that there was no one near enough to hear their conversation, he turned to Harry. "Do you forgive me?"  
  
Harry blinked in surprise and turned a questioning stare to Tom. "For. . .?"  
  
Tom rolled his eyes. "Oh, I dunno, maybe, well, perhaps, for trying to kill you last year?" Tom said, sarcastically. Harry continued to look at Tom with a steady gaze.  
  
"Of course I do," Harry said, ignoring the sarcasm. "Why shouldn't I?"  
  
"But why SHOULD you?" Tom said, frustrated. For some reason, hearing Harry say that he was forgiven didn't convince him enough. "I mean, why would you? I'm the young Voldemort remember? I'm the one responsible for your pain! I'm the one responsible for all of your problems! I'm the thorn in your side that you can't remove! Why WOULD you forgive me?"  
  
"Why do you think I forgave you?"  
  
Tom looked at Harry for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I think you understood that I was over excited at the prospect of my new power and freedom. I think you understood that I was following the plan that I had been dwelling on for as long as I can remember. You understood that I wasn't really thinking at all about what I was doing, or weighing the consequences. Is that it? Am I right?"  
  
Harry smiled and nodded. "Yeah. That and, you're not Voldemort. You're sixteen; you haven't hurt me at all. Voldemort hurt me, not Tom Riddle. So, why should I have anything against you?"  
  
Tom's composure left him for a moment as he gaped at Harry in sincere disbelief. He hadn't only forgiven Tom, but he was completely overlooking the fact that Tom was the younger Voldemort. He refused to acknowledge it. It was more than Tom could have hoped to ask for. Finally gathering himself back together again, Tom prepared to ask Harry the second question that had been burning on the tip of his tongue.  
  
"How bad is he?"  
  
"Who?" Before Tom could answer, Harry's eyes widened in realization. "You mean Voldemort?" Tom nodded, and Harry sighed. "Pretty bad, Tom. I bet he's a lot worse than you intended him to be when you wanted to become him." Tom's eyes plainly told Harry that that answer wasn't enough. He wanted to know more. "He killed a lot of people. I mean a LOT. He's deceitful, he'll say, or do, anything to either get you to side with him or give him what he wants. When he's through with you, he decides to kill you. Not always in a peaceful manner. I've heard horror stories." Harry shuddered. "He truly is a terror. His outward appearance is exactly the same as his evil ambition: twisted, ugly, appalling, grotesque, and hideous. If sin and evil had a form, it would be him." Harry stopped there, seeing that Tom had a good enough answer to let him realize how much of a twisted nightmare his dream had become. "Can I ask you a question?" Harry asked Tom, carefully.  
  
"Sure," Tom said, though his throat was oddly constricted.  
  
"Why DID you want to become Voldemort? What happened to make you so determined to become so evil? It couldn't have been the knowledge that you were the Heir of Slytherin. That alone couldn't have made you want to become an evil Dark Lord."  
  
Tom shifted uncomfortably. "I-ow!" Tom rubbed his nose along with Harry. They had both just walked into a wall.  
  
"People should know better than to put walls in the middle of a hallway," Harry mumbled, rubbing his red nose.  
  
"It's not the middle of the hallway, we've reached the North Tower," Tom chuckled, stepping back. He felt slightly relieved that he didn't need to answer Harry's question. . . yet. . .  
  
"Where's the classroom?" Harry asked, looking around in confusion. Tom pointed towards the ceiling, and Harry followed his direction. There was a circular trap door with a brass plaque on it. The rest of the class, save for Hermione, Ron, and a few others, were already assembled there. Thankfully none of them had been in Harry and Tom's way. "Sibyll Trelawney, Divination teacher," Harry read. "How're we supposed to get up there?"  
  
As though in answer to his question, the trapdoor suddenly swung open, and a silvery ladder descended right at Harry's feet. Everyone got quiet.  
  
"Ladies first," Tom said, gesturing for Harry to go first. Harry mock smiled, but replaced it with a grin.  
  
"Why, therefore, shouldn't YOU be going first?" The class broke out into a fit of giggles while Tom tried to think of a come back. Instead, he settled for slapping Harry upside the head. Harry chuckled and climbed the ladder first, followed by Tom.  
  
They emerged into the strangest-looking classroom he had ever seen. In fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light, the curtains at the windows were all closed, and many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantle piece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups. Harry took all of this in, surprised, while Tom appeared not surprised in the least.  
  
Ron and Hermoine appeared at Harry's shoulder as the class assembled around them, all talking in whispers.  
  
"I see you guys found your way," Tom said in amusement.  
  
"We got Sir Cadogan to give us directions," Hermione said, blushing slightly.  
  
"Bloody insane, he is," Ron added.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione scolded. Harry and Tom snickered. Ron looked around for their professor.  
  
"Where is she?" he said.  
  
A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft misty sort of voice.  
  
"Welcome," it said. "How nice to see you in this physical world at last."  
  
Harry's immediate impression was of a large, glittering insect. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw that she was very thing; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.  
  
"Sit my children, sit," she said, and they all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs. Tom led the three of them to a table near a window, and they all sat around it, Tom sitting in between Hermione and Harry, and Ron across from him.  
  
"I liked the Divination teacher I had when I came here," he whispered. "Professor Oracle. You'll find that this lady is a little off her rocker."  
  
"How would you know?" Ron asked, surprised.  
  
"I had to spend all summer here, remember? This one's a little loony."  
  
"Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before, I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye." Tom snorted and quickly muffled his face. His three new 'friends' shot him surprised looks, and Trelawney an annoyed one before she continued.  
  
"There's no need to listen to her, she'll just bore you," Tom whispered. "She's full of it, I'm telling you."  
  
"What if we miss something important," Hermione defended. Tom rolled his eyes.  
  
"Anything that SHE says can't be important. Trust me, we're going to be reading tea leaves. Then we'll move on to omens, then to crystal balls. That's all you need to know." The little group took Tom's advice until they heard a raise in the volume of the professor's voice.  
  
"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a tea cup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear"-she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up-"after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink."  
  
"3, 2, 1. . ." Tom counted down, and it was followed by a crash. "Predictable. By what I've heard about him, it wouldn't take a Seer to figure out that he'd break it."  
  
Hermoine tried to give Tom a disapproving glare, failing miserably, and Harry and Ron had to duck their heads into their arms to muffle their light laughter.  
  
Ron started to get up to move his chair closer to Harry's to partner up, but Tom beat him to it. Ron shot Harry a quizzical look, but nodded his head in understanding. Harry had explained to him on the train how Tom might need someone to rely on as a friend, and Ron had no problems working with Hermione.  
  
Tom and Harry followed the directions, and Tom handed his tea cup to Harry first. "Ok, what do you see?" Harry opened his text book and peered inside Tom's cup.  
  
"A load of soggy brown stuff," said Harry. The heavily perfumed smoke in the room was making him feel sleepy and stupid. He heard Trelawney say something in the background, but Tom's words registered instead.  
  
"Come on Harry, as stupid as this is, we need to do this for a grade."  
  
"Right, you've got a sun hidden by a cloud. . . that means you have an uncertain future. You also have a five point star, which means that your future has been determined." Harry blinked in confusion. "You have a certain uncertain future, Tom." Tom chuckled and Harry grinned, as he continued. "You also have a chain of petals, I think it says. That means you'll make a few new trustworthy, loyal friends." Harry looked up and beamed at Tom. Tom felt the warm reassurance again, and knew that no matter how ridiculous Divination was, he liked the last prediction.  
  
"Ok, now it's time for Harry Potter's future," Tom said. He made his voice soft and mysterious, imitating the Professor. "I see tea in this tea cup. . . yes, yes it definitely is tea. Now I wonder how tea would end up in a place like that?" He feigned shock and bafflement. Ron, who had been eavesdropping, snorted into his tea cup and Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing. Harry, however, failed miserably and burst out laughing, earning a hard stare from Trelawney.  
  
"Let me see that dear," she said, sweeping over and snatching the cup from Tom's hands. Everyone went quiet to watch.  
  
"The falcon. . . . my dear, you have a deadly enemy."  
  
"But everyone knows that," said Hermione. "Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who." Harry saw Tom visibly flinch, guilt entering his eyes. He scooted his chair slightly closer to remind Tom he was there. Tom relaxed ever so slightly.  
  
"The club. . . an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup. . . The skull. . . danger is in your path, my dear."  
  
Trelawney turned the cup again, gasped, then screamed. She sank into a vacant chair, her hand over her heart and her eyes closed.  
  
"My dear boy. . . my poor, dear boy. . . no. . . it is kinder not to say. . . no. . . don't ask me. . ."  
  
"What is it, Professor?" Dean Thomas said, at once. Everyone had gotten to their feet, and slowly crowded around Harry, Tom, Ron, and Hermione, pressing close to Professor Trelawney's chair to try to get a look at Harry's cup.  
  
"My dear," Professor Trelawney's eyes opened dramatically. "You have the Grim."  
  
"The what?" said Harry.  
  
"It's not important," Tom growled. "She's just trying to fluster you. The Grim symbolizes death." The whole class gasped and gave Harry a startled look. Tom saw Harry's eyes widen in panic, as he became lost in his thoughts. He seriously regretted letting Harry know the meaning of the Grim. He noticed Hermione move to stand behind the Professor's chair.  
  
"I don't think it looks like a Grim," she said, flatly. Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermione with mounting dislike.  
  
"I agree with her," Tom added, standing next to Hermione. "I don't see a Grim in there at all."  
  
"You'll forgive me for saying so, my dears, but I perceive very little aura around the two of you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."  
  
"You'll forgive ME for saying so," Tom Riddle started, putting on his most haughty and arrogant voice, "but my first Divination teacher, Professor Oracle, said that she thought I was wonderful at seeing the future. All my predictions came true. I don't see a Grim in that cup, so in result, there IS no Grim in that cup." Everyone's mouth was hanging open, looking at Tom. Some of the students were scowling, taking his outburst as typical Slytherin behavior. Others were grinning, glad he had stood up for Harry. Others, like Harry, were in shock as to why he would risk suspension, detention, or reputation ruin for the sake of a Gryffindor.  
  
Seamus Finnigan was the first to break the silence.  
  
"It looks like a Grim if you do this," he said, with his eyes nearly shut, "But it looks more like a donkey from here," he said, moving to the left.  
  
"You're close," Tom said, grinning. "That's not a donkey, that's a Black Unicorn. The Black Unicorn stands for hidden strength and ability. That's what I saw in the cup, and that means that's what's in the cup. Now, if you'll excuse us, it's about time for our classes to switch so we'll just be on our way." Tom grabbed Harry's sleeve and pulled him behind him. Hermione and Ron quickly followed, along with the rest of the class, leaving an outraged Professor behind.  
  
  
  
Author Notes: Ok, as I said, you may recognize that from chapter six of Prisoner of Azkaban. I made a few changes to it though. This is also only part 1, I'm not sure how many parts of chapter six there'll be. Probably two or three.  
  
Tom is starting to show his want to be friends with Harry right now, but there will be a few bumps in the road, as you'll see in the next chapter. These chapters are turning out to be pretty long; this one is three times longer than my normal chapters. Anyway, thanks go out to:  
  
Trance Snape: Thanks! I take a lot of pride in original ideas. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope this continues to please!  
  
Ignominia: Thanks for all those compliments, and as for the grammar and spelling, I'll have my Beta readers point out whatever flaws I do have ^_^ I'll probably be posting at least a new chap per week, so I'll be posting again soon!  
  
*insert blank space here*: Tom as a Gryffindor. . . maybe I will put him in Gryffindor, maybe I won't! *grins* Actually, I've already decided what I'll do with him, and you'll see either in the next chapter, or the one after that. Do YOU think he should go to Gryffindor?  
  
King Jasbon: Thanks for checking over this chapter, I appreciate it to no end!  
  
Wendelin The Weird: Thanks, it was rather short, but they'll be getting longer.  
  
Adam: I took heed of your warning to not let the friendship come too quickly. It may not be too apparent in this chapter yet, but in the next is when they'll have their first argument. Basically, Tom can't understand why but he desperately wants Harry's friendship. Harry being who he is has a hard time opening up to Tom. And you're right, Tom is somewhat evil, so he shouldn't suddenly be all perfect and good. They'll probably have arguments over Pureblood/mix, Gryffindor/Slytherin, how to respect Hagrid, what to do in life, etc. And I agree with your last comment; I really wish there were more fics out there where two characters could be really close to each other, yet it not be slash or romance. Just a sort of brotherly companionship of sorts.  
  
Amber: Yes mam, writing right away! 


	4. Talons and Tea Leaves Part 2

Tom let go of Harry's sleeve once they were a certain distance from the tower. All the while he had been muttering things like "Insane wench," and "What's wrong with the Professors these days?"   
  
"Tom," Harry finally said quietly, still obviously shaken up by what had just happened. "Where are we going?" Tom stopped for a second. Ron, who had been staring at a painting, walked into a wall.   
  
"People should know better than to put walls in the middle of the hallway," Ron grumbled. Harry chuckled and Hermione shook her head.   
  
"I was going to Charms class," Tom said, ignoring Ron.   
  
"Oh. . . we have Transfiguration," Harry said.   
  
"Fine, let's go there."   
  
Hermione gave him a stern look. "Tom, you can't skip out on charms. It's an important class!"   
  
"Well, you're forgetting that this entire year is a review for me. I understand everything all the teachers are teaching, and I've always found Charms to be one of the simplest classes there is. Transfiguration was always one of my favorite classes, so I feel like going there." And with that said, Tom changed direction and started marching towards Professor McGonagall's classroom. Since Tom hadn't taken them straight there from Divination, they only made it just in time for class to start.   
  
Harry immediately chose a seat towards the back of the classroom, and Tom quickly filled in the seat next to him. He noticed how uncomfortable Harry looked. The other classmates were shooting him furtive looks, as if they expected him to drop dead at any given moment. He could also tell that Harry wasn't paying attention to what Professor McGonagall was telling them about Animagi (wizards who could transform at will into animals), and that he wasn't even watching when she transformed herself in front of their eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes.   
  
"Really, what has got into you all today?" said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."   
  
Everybody's heads turned towards Harry again, but nobody spoke. Tom attempted to shoot them his most menacing glare. Neville squeaked and turned back around. Then Hermione raised her hand.   
  
"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading tea leaves, and-"   
  
"Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which one of you will be dying this year?"   
  
Everyone stared at her. Tom simply smirked.   
  
"Me," said Harry, finally.   
  
"I see," said Professor McGonagall, fixing Harry with her beady eyes. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sibyl Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues-"   
  
Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney-"   
  
She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."   
  
Hermione laughed while Ron leaned over and whispered, "Might be better if you croak! Look at that mountain of work she's giving us!" Tom smacked Ron across the head. Harry seemed to feel a bit better. For some reason, a lump of tea leaves didn't seem as menacing anymore. Not everyone seemed convinced though. Ron still looked slightly worried, and Lavender whispered, "But what about Neville's cup?" Tom sent her another one of his evil looking glares.   
  
When Transfiguration was over, Professor McGonagall asked Tom to stay after a moment. He nodded in understanding.   
  
"Should we wait for you?" Harry asked.   
  
"No, this shouldn't take to long. Go on ahead." With that said, Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined the crowd that was thundering towards the Great Hall for lunch.   
  
"Mr. Riddle, may I ask why you decided to join my class for this period rather than going to Charms?" McGonagall asked.   
  
"I felt like it, that's all," Tom said, smoothly. McGonagall fought to suppress a grin.   
  
"And may I ask why you decided to take third year courses this year, rather than seventh year?"   
  
"I needed the review," he said, feeling slightly agitated. "May I go to lunch now?"   
  
"Yes, indeed."   
  
All the way to the Great Hall, he muttered to himself about people not being able to mind their own business. On his way there, he remembered something Harry had asked him earlier.   
  
'Why DID you want to become Voldemort? What happened to make you so determined to become so evil? It couldn't have been the knowledge that you were the Heir of Slytherin. That alone couldn't have made you want to become an evil Dark Lord.'   
  
Tom sighed to himself, knowing that he wouldn't be able to avoid answering that question forever. He left that train of thought when he entered the Great Hall. He saw Harry, looking pale and uncomfortable at the Gryffindor table. By now, the entire table had heard about what had happened, and word was spreading throughout the Great Hall. People from all tables were either giving him looks of pity or of glee. Most of them were pity.   
  
"Did you hear the news?" Draco asked as Tom sat down, "Potter's supposed to die! I hope it's violent. . . Hey Tom? Where were you for Charms class? I saved you a seat, but you never came in."   
  
Tom quickly hid away his anger towards Draco and masked it with an air of indifference. "I didn't feel like showing up. I cut class."   
  
"Oh, well that's not odd. I cut History of Magic every day, and I STILL pass each exam." Tom did his best to ignore the jabber coming from Draco and his goons. He snapped back to attention when he heard one of them say the name 'Hagrid'.   
  
"What did you say?" he asked.   
  
"I said, 'Isn't it just our bloody luck that that oaf, Hagrid, is going to be our Care of Magical Creatures Professor?'"   
  
"You're joshing me, right? Rubeus Hagrid is going to be our Professor?" Tom started laughing like a hyena, earning him a few bewildered stares from the other houses. "That moron, huh? Oh, this next class is definitely going to be fun!"   
  
Draco laughed to and smirked. "Yes, you're a true Slytherin indeed."   
  
*** *** ***   
  
The rain that had come down in buckets yesterday had cleared, and the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp.   
  
Tom immediately noticed that Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other, and that Harry was walking beside them in silence. The group of Slytherins and Gryffindors made their way towards Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Tom was half listening to the conversation that Draco was having with Crabbe and Goyle, who were both chortling. They were talking about Hagrid.   
  
Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.   
  
"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up!' Everyone here? Right, follow me!"   
  
For a moment, Tom thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the Forbidden Forest. That would have proven interesting; Tom had had many adventures within the trees of that forest. Instead, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.   
  
"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it-make sure yeh can see. Now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books-"   
  
"How?" said the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.   
  
"Eh?" said Hagrid.   
  
"How do we open our books," Malfoy repeated He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too; some, like Harry and Tom, had belted their books shut; others had crammed them into tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.   
  
"Hasn'. . . hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.   
  
The class all shook their heads.   
  
"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look."   
  
He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant finger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.   
  
"Oh how silly we've all been," Malfoy sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"   
  
"Honestly, Draco, I feel like a complete and utter moron for not knowing," Tom added in. "I mean, it was soooo obvious!" Sarcasm was dripping from each of his words. He was vaguely aware of the fact that Harry was giving him a startled look.   
  
"I-I thought they were funny," Hagrid said, uncertainly to Hermione.   
  
"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Malfoy. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"   
  
"I think all our text books should have some sort of homicidal tendency, don't you agree?" Tom laughed.   
  
"Shut up, Malfoy. You too, Tom," said Harry quietly. Hagrid was looking downcast, and Harry wanted Hagrid's first lesson to be a success.   
  
"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread. "So-so yeh've got yer books an'-an' now yeh need the magical creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on. . ."   
  
He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.   
  
"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy, loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father will have a fit when I tell him-"   
  
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry repeated.   
  
"Careful, Potter, there's a Dementor behind you."   
  
"Oooooooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing towards the opposite end of the paddock.   
  
Trotting towards them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures in the magical world. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel colored beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.   
  
"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly when Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence. Tom was the only one who hadn't moved.   
  
"Beau'iful, aren' they? Can any of yeh tell me wha' these are called?"   
  
"Hippogriffs," Tom said, sounding bored. "Created when the Griffin mates with a female horse. They are extremely rare since Griffins tend to eat horses." Hermione shot him a jealous glare and slowly lowered her own waving arm.   
  
"Very good, eh. . . eh. . . er, um. . . would you mind tellin' me yer name?"   
  
"Tinker bell," Tom said, sarcastically. Unfortunately, Hagrid missed out on the sarcasm.   
  
"Oh, well, eh, very good Tinker bell." Those who understood who Tinker bell was broke out into laughter. Others, such as Draco Malfoy, stood slightly confused, yet grinning stupidly nonetheless. Hagrid looked around for a moment, shrugged, and decided to continue with the lesson. Harry was glaring fiercely at Tom.   
  
"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer-"   
  
No one seemed to want to, not even Tom. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, approached the fence cautiously.   
  
"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do. Yeh always wait for the hippogriff to make the firs' move. It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn't bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt.   
  
"Right. . . who wants to go first?"   
  
Most of the class had backed further away in answer. Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione had misgivings. The hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.   
  
"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.   
  
"I'll do it," said Harry.   
  
There was an intake of breath from behind him, and both Lavender and Parvati whispered, "Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!" Tom snickered softly and quickly put his hand over his mouth. Harry ignored them and climbed over the paddock fence.   
  
"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Right then- let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."   
  
He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Malfoy's eyes were narrowed maliciously, and Tom was watching with an air of uncertainty.   
  
"Easy, now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink. . . Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much. . ."   
  
Harry's eyes immediately began to water, but he didn't shut them. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at Harry with one fierce, orange eye.   
  
"That's it," said Hagrid. "That's it, Harry. . . now bow. . ."   
  
Harry didn't feel much like exposing the back of his neck to Buckbeak, but he did what he was told. He gave a short bow, then looked up.   
  
The hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.   
  
"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right-back away now, Harry, easy does it-"   
  
But then, to Harry's enormous surprise, the hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.   
  
"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right-yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"   
  
Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly toward the hippogriff and reached out toward it. He patted the beak several times and the hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.   
  
The class broke into applause, all except Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed.   
  
"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid. "I reckon he might' let yeh ride him!"   
  
This was more than Harry had bargained for. He was used to a broomstick; but he wasn't sure a hippogriff would be quite the same.   
  
"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid. "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that. . ."   
  
Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted himself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up. Harry wasn't sure where to hold on; everything in front of him was covered with feathers.   
  
"Go on, then!" Hagrid roared, slapping the hippogriff's hindquarters.   
  
Without warning, twelve foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry; he just had time to seize the hippogriff around the neck and Harry knew which one he preferred; the hippogriff's wings beat uncomfortably on either side of him, catching him under his legs and making him feel he was about to be thrown off; the glossy feathers slipped under his fingers and he didn't dare get a stronger grip; instead of the smooth action of the Nimbus Two Thousand, he now felt himself rocking backward and forward as the hindquarters of the hippogriff rose and fell with its wings.   
  
Buckbeak flew once around the paddock and fell heavily on his four, ill- assorted feet. Harry wobbled, nearly fell, but managed to keep his balance. He pushed himself upright again and ran his fingers through his more-so- than-usual messy hair.   
  
"Good work, Harry!" roared Hagrid as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle cheered. "Okay, who else wants to go?"   
  
Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practiced on the chestnut, while Harry watched.   
  
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful. Tom was standing off to the side of them, looking bored.   
  
"This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Harry to hear him. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it. . . I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"   
  
It happened in a flash of steely talons; Malfoy let out a high pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.   
  
"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"   
  
"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me. . . gotta get him outta here. . ."   
  
Hermione ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily. As they passed, the class could see there was a long, deep gash on Malfoy's arm; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him up the slope toward the castle.   
  
Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.   
  
"They should fire him straight away!" said Pansy Parkinson, who was in tears.   
  
"It was Malfoy's fault!" snapped Dean Thomas. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.   
  
"That oaf should have known better than to have third years mess with a hippogriff. That's sixth year stuff, at the very least. Then again, he can't help it if he's brainless," Tom said.   
  
"Take that back," Harry said, slowly and challengingly. Tom turned to face Harry.   
  
"No, I won't. You know why? That's exactly what Hagrid is. A brainless, stupid, oaf."   
  
"One would think that you would have some remorse for being the cause of his expulsion back when he was in school," Harry hissed, only soft enough for Tom to hear. "I said, take-it-back," he said again, louder this time.   
  
"As I said before, no. He's just as brainless as muggles!"   
  
From the Gryffindor group, a few angry gasps could be heard. Hermione was seething, and Ron's hands were twitching as if he wished to wrap them around Tom's neck.   
  
"Muggles are not brainless, and neither is Hagrid!"   
  
"No wonder you'd be so defensive of muggles, since you ARE a Mudblood!"   
  
"Look who's talking! YOUR father was a muggle! Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! YOU'RE a mudblood!!"   
  
Tom's face contorted into rage, and before anyone could even think another thought, his wand whipped out and he muttered a curse under his breath. A green light shot out and hit Harry squarely in the chest. He fell to the ground, writhing, screaming, and convulsing. After about a minute of Harry's thrashing and hollering, Tom snapped out of his rage induced state and ended the curse. He looked at Harry's still form with a look of pure horror on his face. Hermione and Ron rushed to Harry's side and checked for a pulse, while the rest of the group continued to look on in utter confusion and fear. Tom took a halting, cautious step forward.   
  
"Is he. . . is he alright?"   
  
"No thanks to you, you bloody murderer!" Ron hollered. "You damn near killed him! That's it, Riddle. You've crossed the line! Wait until Dumbledore finds out!"   
  
"What was that curse that he did anyway," Hermione asked Ron, fighting tears as Dean and Seamus levitated Harry's body.   
  
"It's an illegal curse, one of three main Unforgivables," Ron said, gravely. "Possibly the most painful curse ever. It's the Cruciatus curse."  
  
  
  
  
  
Note: Mudblood doesn't mean that one of the parents had to be a muggle, it means that you have muggle blood in you. Lily was muggle born, and the muggle blood passes down the generations. So, technically, Harry has some muggle blood in him.  
  
Author's Notes: Wow, that took me a while to update. Sorry about that. I've actually got chapter five completed already, so I'll post it when I decide it's time. Anyway, thanks go out to:  
  
padfoot rocks: lol, thanks for the complement. Yeah, Ron and Hermione both know who Tom is. Terrible Shock's gonna get an update really soon too, so keep an eye out for that!  
  
Iggie: I don't mind if you put this at the end of one of your chapters, that's quite flattering ^_^ I love your fic, by the way, you've done outstanding with it. It really captures what I'd imagine their personalities to be like!  
  
wolf of Avalon: hehe, thanks. By the way, Malfoy didn't make a comment because he wasn't there, remember? He never signed up for Divination. It was a mix class, but Tom had signed up for it. Draco's never been in Harry's Divination class before. As for Tom's house, read the next chapter when I post it to see what happens ^_~ Also, you said you'd like to do Dying Angel? That's fine, I encourage it! E-mail, or IM me or something when you've posted chappie one!  
  
Deity: I didn't really know at first what to do with Tom, but I'm glad you like how he's turning out!  
  
HPIceAngel: Thank you, I take a great deal of pride in original ideas. After deciding to write this fic, I've also been obsessing over Riddle, hehe. He's definitely one of my favorite characters. As I said earlier, I have the next chapter done, so I'll update soon!  
  
Shades: Yep, Moldywart, Voldepoo's gonna make an appearance. After I get off the books thread and start writing after fourth year, he's gonna show up too and. . . well, you'll see.  
  
Trance Snape: *chuckles* You're right, that didn't sound right. I got the general gist of it though. Yeah, I see how you can relate Tom to Malfoy or Snape. . . it must be a Slytherin thing, eh?  
  
Kattis Potter Black: ^_^ thanks! I'll keep on writing, as long as it's wanted!  
  
Perc Mad Hatter: It's already been determined what house he'll end up in, but don't worry. Whatever the outcome, you'll see some decent Slytherins.  
  
Gia: Hehe, I like that word Captivating. Sounds kewl. Anyway, sure, I'll e- mail you when I update. Hopefully my e-mail hasn't bugged out on me again. . .  
  
Piri Lupin-Snape: Feel free to take on the challenges whenever you please!  
  
tima: Are you saying you'd like to write two or five?  
  
RioRaptor: Ooo, I love looking at Harry Potter fanart! If you can send me any pics you drew, that'd be great! Especially of Tom or Sirius, since they are the best! (glares at everyone to make sure they agree).  
  
Phoenix. G. Fawkes.: Okay, I'm going to answer all of your questions now:  
  
1. what was Arthur and Molly Weasley's reaction?  
  
1. Neither of them have found out yet. Harry promised Tom to keep it a secret between Dumbledor, himself, and if Tom wished, Ron and Hermione. So, Tom's pretty much stayed out of their way while Dumbledor covered for him, yet without directly lying.  
  
2. And Ginny's? How could she deal seeing every day the boy who had tried to kill her?  
  
2. Like Arthur and Molly, Ginny is unaware of the fact that Tom actually still exists. As you'll see in the next chapter and the one after that, she'll figure it out, but she hasn't ever seen Tom in the flesh. You'll just have to read to see how she deals with it when she finds out.  
  
3. And what will be Slytherin's reaction when they realise that Tom and Harry are friendes?  
  
3. That too will be in the next chapter. Right now, Tom's been keeping it quiet in front of the other Slytherins, but perhaps a little mishap will blow his cover. . .  
  
4. What will Voldemort say?  
  
4. Right now, Voldemort doesn't know. And you won't see his reaction for a while yet, but I do promise that Voldemort and Tom will come face to face before the end of the fic.  
  
I hope that answered some of your questions! And constructive criticism or questions is always appreciated!  
  
Arianne: lol, thank you for your reviews. As for Ginny, as I answered just above with the last reviewer, she never got a look at Tom yet. That's going to change in the next chapter, but she didn't get a good look at Tom yet.  
  
BriDee: Thanks for all of your reviews, and I'll check out your fics sometime. I'm glad you like it!  
  
Whew! That's the end of it! It's 11:39pm, so I'm gonna go to bed now. Night all, and happy reading!  
  
-Mars Raven 


	5. Affection and Hate

Tom watched, as if through a fogged daze, the events that occurred after his outburst. Harry was carefully taken away from the gaping crowd and rushed toward the hospital wing. Tom would have liked very much to take him there himself, but he knew better than to go anywhere near Ron. If Ron's look could kill, Tom would be six feet under. Hermione and the other Gryffindors looked distressed beyond belief, as they hurried after their fallen comrade. Normally, the Slytherins would probably be delighted to no end at Tom's action against the golden Gryffindor, but this wasn't the case. They were all giving him different arrays of looks: Shock, horror, hate, loathing, surprise, and disbelief. Not over what he had done to Harry, though. It was something that Harry had said.  
  
"You're a MUDBLUD?" Pansy Parkinson said, in disbelief. "YOU'RE a MUDBLUD? And you're in Slytherin?" Her voice was laced with disbelief and disgust. The other Slytherins started to slowly advance toward Tom, threateningly. Tom knew better than to stick around and try to defend himself; he was too greatly outnumbered. He made a mad dash for the Hogwarts Entrance Hall and ran up the first set of stairs he could find.  
  
After leaning against a wall to catch his breath, he heard a somewhat familiar voice not too far away.  
  
"There he is! I told you I saw him at the feast! That's Tom Riddle! He's back! He's going to get me!"  
  
Tom only had enough time to register one word in his mind before he was knocked flat on his back. Ginny.  
  
"Thought you could try to hurt our sister again by disguising yourself as a student, hm? How thick do you think we are!?" Fred was shouting from above him, while trying to get a good punch in at his face.  
  
"Let him have it, Fred! Turn his hair green! Force feed him a Terd Tart!" George was calling from the sideline. Tom struggled to get up, to try to say something in his own defense, but the last thing he remembered was a fist flying straight at his face before everything went black.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Tom groaned and stretched his sore muscles as he woke up some hours later. He could tell by the smell of the room he was in that he was in the Hospital Wing, even though he hadn't opened his eyes yet. His forehead was throbbing, and he felt distress flooding through him, though he couldn't exactly place why. Finally, after a few moments of recovering, it all came back to him; Hagrid's class, the argument, cursing Harry, running from the Slytherins, Fred and George, and being knocked out. Tom's eyes snapped open, and he sat up, ignoring the ache in his head. His eyes scanned the hospital wing and he found Draco sleeping, looking healthy as a Pegasus, on one of the beds. There was a bed by a window that had been secluded and shielded from the rest of the room. Tom was willing to bet anything that that was Harry's bed. He sighed and looked at the nearby clock. It read 6:30 pm. Was it truly that late?  
  
"I see you're awake now, Tom." Tom's body went rigid and he slowly turned his head to see Dumbledor, standing in the doorway. His expression was quite grave, and the normal twinkle in his eyes was missing. He motioned Tom to come over to him. Hoping that his fear wasn't showing, Tom stood up and stiffly walked over to the wizened wizard. Once he got to the door, Dumbledor turned around and lead Tom to his office. Once the gargoyle had stepped aside, and they were up the moving staircase and sitting in their seats, Dumbledor turned his questioning eyes to Tom. "I believe it is safe to assume you know the purpose as to why you are here?"  
  
Tom nodded his head, his eyes downcast. His hand was shaking slightly on the chair's arm.  
  
"Tom, what you did out there was one of the unforgivable, illegal curses," Dumbledor continued. "You provoked Mr. Potter into an argument, and then you cursed him. Are you aware of what the consequences could be if Harry decides to not drop the charges?"  
  
Tom nodded once again, and in a soft, strangled voice answered "Expulsion."  
  
"I'm afraid that that is correct, however the consequences would exceed that as well." Tom's head shot up and his eyes locked with Dumbledor's. "Tom, need I remind you that the Cruciatus curse is illegal? If Harry does decide to file a lawsuit against you, and report your actions to the Ministry of Magic, not only will you be expelled, but the officials may sentence you to time in Azkaban."  
  
Whatever color was left in Tom's face immediately drained and was replaced by a look of pure horror. His hands were clenching the arms of the chair in a death grip; almost as if he was afraid a Dementor would suddenly sneak up behind him and whisk him away to Azkaban.  
  
"Is there. . .is there anyway that, we could, you know, drop the charges?"  
  
"I'm afraid not Tom. The only way you could get off is if Harry decides to forget the whole thing. As painful as the Cruciatus curse is, I highly doubt that anyone, even Harry, would be willing to just forget the entire incident. There's also the fact that there were several witnesses. Even if Harry chooses to stay silent about it, if any one of the others were to say anything to anyone about your actions, you'd be in trouble. Another issue that has presented itself, after today, is the issue with Ms. Weasley. Now that the entire Weasley family knows that you're here, they have the right to file a lawsuit of attempted murder against you. I'm afraid, Tom that with attempted murder and attacking a fellow student with an illegal curse will be enough to get you lifetime in Azkaban. If I remember correctly, you are responsible for the death of your former classmate, Myrtle, and the first opening of the Chamber of Secrets. Though you are born from the memory of it, you still did fully take part in it. Even more, if Minister Fudge was to learn that you are, indeed, the past embodiment of Voldemort, he may even go as far as ordering that you receive the Dementor's kiss." Dumbledor stopped talking when he heard the strangled breathing coming from Tom. Tom was visibly shaking now, guilt and sorrow emitting from him in waves. "Would you like to say anything in your defense, Tom?"  
  
"It was wrong of me," he said, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice. "It was stupid, and selfish of me to do what I did. . . to both of them. I don't know what came over me, really. I was mad, I mean, I've always hated being a Mudblood. Then we he reminded me of it. . . and then there's Ginny. I was desperate to come back, I really was. I hated being locked up in that dairy. I was bored and lonely. I felt like a caged animal. I wanted out, no matter what means I had to use to get out. Ginny was the only one there; so taking her life would have gotten me out. It's just my temper, I mean, It's difficult to get it under control you know, and with the orphanage I lived at, and the other Slytherins, and being shunned and ignored, and. . ." Tom took another shaky breath and swallowed a few times to try to get control of his wavering voice.  
  
"I will keep what you have said in mind, Tom," Dumbledor said, quietly, "though I'm afraid this is out of my hands. I do believe you should return to the hospital wing and spend the night there, then, in the morning, you may return to the Slytherin dormitories."  
  
"Sir? Is there any way I could remain in the hospital wing until my expulsion?" Tom asked, softly yet hopefully. Dumbledor nodded in understanding.  
  
"I do believe, Tom, that a solution other than that may present itself before nightfall tomorrow." Dumbledor said, cryptically.  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"You will see, soon enough. Now, return to the hospital wing. I will do all I can for you."  
  
"Thank you, Headmaster." Feeling as though his body weighed a million pounds, Tom glumly rose to his feet and slowly made the trek back to the hospital wing. Panicked thoughts were running through his mind. Should he run away? If he managed to escape, should he seek out his future self? Would Harry forgive him, if he stayed and explained? Could Harry forgive him? What about the Weasley family? Would he truly be expelled? Would he go to Azkaban? Would he receive the kiss? Tom's panic only escalated with each thought, and by the time he reached his bed, he was certain he was about to have a nervous breakdown. He had always been able to act cool and confident in any situation, but one thing changed that now. Emotion had destroyed that. As strange as it was for Tom to admit it, he felt somewhat protective of Harry, even though he had been one to inflict pain on him, not really meaning it. Looking at Harry, Tom saw himself. An orphan with no one to love him, with half the school against him based on background alone, a wizard prodigy, and the heir of one of the school founders, though Tom doubted Harry knew about the last part. He felt the need to give Harry the life that he had always wanted; a life with love, joy, happiness, security, friends, and a promising future.  
  
Carefully, hoping not to wake Harry, Tom walked next to the drawn curtain around the bed and slowly pulled it back. He was surprised to find Harry awake and sitting up in bed. The window next to him was open, and an owl was flying away just after delivering a letter. A muggle envelope was on the floor next to the bed, and a tear stained letter was in Harry's shaking hands. Tears were cascading down the raven-haired boy's cheeks, as he took long, slow, calming breaths.  
  
"Harry?" Tom said, softly and uncertainly. Harry's head snapped up and he quickly stuffed the letter under his pillow. With one hand, he attempted, though failed, to discretely wipe his tears away.  
  
"'Lo Tom," he said softly. His voice was somewhat scratchy and hoarse, the way a voice gets after one's been crying for a while. His eyes were downcast, not meeting Tom's eyes.  
  
"Was that," Tom gestured at the remains of Harry's tears, "because of me?"  
  
"No, it's from. . .well. . .it's not important," Harry murmured. He raised his eyes to look into Tom's, and green met with green.  
  
"Harry, I know what I did was wrong. I don't know what came over me; I got carried away. I'm sorry Harry, I really am. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, it was just with class and the other Slytherins and all-"  
  
Harry watched Tom carefully, considering what he was saying. "You hurt me. . . I mean, you really hurt me. I'll forgive you though. I won't forget it, but I will forgive you. It'll be a little bit before I completely trust you again, but we'll see what happens. Also, I'm not going to press any sort of charges, and I convinced Hermione to use a mild memory charm on all the witnesses to erase that one part of the incident. They will remember you being half muggle born though. . ."  
  
Tom hadn't heard any of this though. He was staring with open shock at Harry. Even after being put through the Cruciatus curse, he STILL was going to stand up for Tom. It was almost too much for him to take. Carefully, hoping not to upset or anger Harry, Tom moved closer to Harry's bed and sat down on the edge. When Harry shot him an inviting smile, he relaxed and got situated.  
  
"You said you had some other things you wanted to ask me Tom. Now's probably the best time to go about it," Harry commented. "I mean we have all night to talk if you wish."  
  
Tom nodded, thankful for an opportunity to speak with Harry for a long period of time. "I wanted to ask you about your summer. I mean I still don't know what you do over the summer and things like that. I'm rather curious."  
  
Tom noticed Harry stiffen, yet resolve settled over his face. "Well, I live with my Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and cousin Dudley. They hate me, since they hate magic. Since I'm a wizard, I'm a main target on their 'people to hate' list. They've always starved me and mistreated me. This past summer, my uncle told me that if I behaved when my Aunt Marge came to visit, and if I pretended I went to St. Brutus' school for incurably criminal boys, then he'd sign my Hogsmead permission form. At dinner one night, they were talking about my parents. They were calling them drunks, and slackers, and horrible things of all sorts. I got mad and sort of blew up my aunt. I ran away, rode the Knight Bus, and went to the Leaky Cauldron. I met Minister Fudge there and he told me about Sirius Black."  
  
"Sirius Black? Who's he?"  
  
"He's a convicted murderer. From what I've heard, he was Voldemort's right hand man and he's escaped for the purpose of killing me. They think he hopes to revive Voldemort." Harry stopped and decided to change the conversation back to its original topic when he noticed Tom's discomfort of discussing Voldemort. "Well, I got a room at the Leaky Cauldron and stayed there until it was time to leave for school. The Weasleys also got some rooms too. On the way to Hogwarts, we shared a compartment with Professor Lupin. Some Dementors came on the train later, looking for Sirius Black. I. . . fainted I think." At this revelation, Harry looked quite embarrassed.  
  
"What did you see when the Dementors got near you?" Tom asked, afraid of the answer.  
  
"I heard screams. . . my mother. And-and I heard Voldemort killing her." Harry shuddered slightly, but continued nonetheless. "Professor Lupin drove the Dementor away though. Then I got in the school, was brought to Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey, then I was let back into the Great Hall." He stopped and took a drink of water from the glass on his bedside table. "What about you? How has your summer been?"  
  
"Rather boring," Tom admitted, with a small smile. "I did a lot of thinking though. A lot of research too. I found some things that you may want to consider."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Well, wouldn't it be smashing if we could transform into animals?"  
  
"You mean, like Professor McGonagall?"  
  
"Yeah. Witches and wizards that can do that are called Animagus wizards. I found this potion with, like, fifty illegal ingredients that can allow to see our Animagus form and allow us to try it to get a feel for it. Then, we could transform on a regular basis! Ron and Hermione are welcome to try it to, that is, if they're willing to forgive me. . ."  
  
"Don't worry," Harry grinned, "They'll forgive you. It might just take a little while."  
  
"I hope so," Tom sighed. Suddenly, he remembered something. "Harry, if you weren't crying about what happened earlier, then what got you so upset?" Harry shifted uncomfortably and looked away from Tom again. "Harry?"  
  
Harry merely remained silent and refused to look Tom in the eye.  
  
"It was that letter, wasn't it? What did it say?"  
  
Harry mumbled something under his breath, but Tom still couldn't figure out what he said. Noticing that Harry was looking out the window again, Tom quietly and carefully moved his hand toward Harry's pillow. Before Harry could protest, Tom had swiped the letter out from under the pillow.  
  
"No! Tom, please don't read that! It-it's nothing, please!"  
  
Tom looked up and saw the pained expression on Harry's face. "Harry, please, let me read this. I know you really have no reason to trust me now, but I want to know what's hurting you. I want to help if I can."  
  
"That's just it," Harry said, in defeat, "there's nothing you can do to help. It's out of your hands, Tom."  
  
"Please? I just want to understand." After a silent moment of thinking it over, Harry finally nodded his head in agreement. Tom unfolded the wrinkled paper, that still had some tear stains on it, to find out what it had said.  
  
Boy,  
  
Some things are going to change this summer, so you better get used to it before you come back from that freak school. The moment you get back, ALL of your freak junk is to be burned. Your aunt, cousin, and I have tolerated this nonsense long enough. You're going back to normal school, AND we're moving. We're going to move closer to Uklair's Prep School for Boys so that Dudley may go to the best of all the schools. You are to arrive on time to be picked up and your freak things are to be handed over immediately for disposal. You are not to mention, contact, or write about anyone or anything from that place. One other thing is that your old 'punishments' are to start again. You'd better cooperate, Potter, or else you'll be in even more trouble.  
  
Vernon Dursley  
  
Tom's eyes widened in horror and he quickly took another look at Harry. Harry had lowered his head to rest upon his arms, with his knees drawn to his chest. His breathing was uneven again, signaling that he had unintentionally started weeping again.  
  
"He can't do that," Tom said softly, disbelievingly, "it's not legal! Harry, this is serious! You should have him arrested for child abuse!"  
  
"No!" Harry said, quickly, his face paling worse than chalk.  
  
"Why not? Harry, this letter says it all! I mean, the way they treat you. . . it's just-"  
  
"Tom, don't you get it!" Harry half yelled. "Where would I go if the Dursley's were arrested for child abuse? I'd get sent to an orphanage! Or a foster home!"  
  
"So? It has to be better than what you're being put through with those monsters that dare to call themselves your relatives!"  
  
"But I can't go to an orphanage! Then I'd have even more in common with-" Harry cut his sentence short when he realized who he was talking to. Tom squinted his eyes as he tried to make sense of Harry's words before realization dawned.  
  
"You're referring to what I said in the chamber, aren't you?" Tom said softly, his voice laced with regret. "You're thinking about what I said about our strange likeness. You're afraid of ending up just like me." Harry nodded his head, shamefully. "Merlin. . . it's all my fault. . . if only I hadn't said that. If only I hadn't been born. Then Voldemort would never have existed, and you'd be happy and carefree, and you'd have parents, and a home, and people to love you, and a normal life. All this is my fault; if only I had died!" Tom's voice had grown louder and louder until he was practically shouting in the end. He was shaking with barely controlled anger and grief.  
  
"Don't say that!" Harry defended. "It's not your fault at all!"  
  
"How so? I ruined you! I killed your parents! I took away everything you ever had!"  
  
"No, you didn't! Voldemort ruined my life. Voldemort killed my parents. Voldemort took away everything I've ever had. Not you, Tom. You're Tom Marvolo Riddle. He's Voldemort. You've never been Voldemort, and you'll never be Voldemort. You're Tom." With that said, the thirteen year old child hero wrapped his thin arms around Tom's neck and hugged him. It was strange for both of them, in a sense, for neither of them were quite used to being too close with other people. But it was comforting too. Tom returned the embrace and rested his chin on top of Harry's head while Harry settled for Tom's shoulder.  
  
"I'm not going to let Dursley hurt you, you know," Tom said, fighting tears. "And I'm not going to let myself become Voldemort. I don't want to hurt you or anyone else anymore."  
  
"I know," replied Harry, who was already weeping again into Tom's robe. "I know you'd never mean to hurt me." For some time afterward, Harry just cried into Tom's shoulder while he rubbed Harry's back in a soothing manner. It was a bond that surpassed friendship and bordered more on brotherly care. After some time, Harry fell asleep, still leaning against his unexpected protector, and Tom fell asleep still sitting up against the wall, on the edge of Harry's bed.  
  
On the other side of the curtain, Severus Snape leaned against the wall, unable to stop himself from eavesdropping. He had come to the hospital wing to give Tom a good talking to about how a Slytherin should behave, when he had seen the boy cautiously crossing the room. Slightly ashamed of his action, Snape had stood there and listened to the entire conversation, a new understanding for both of the boys blossoming as each word was said.  
  
"I see you have found a good use for some of your spare time, Severus," Dumbledore said softly as he came up behind Snape.  
  
"You planned this, didn't you?" Snape said, really not at all surprised.  
  
"Why, Severus, I have no idea what you are talking about," Dumbledore chuckled. "Though, it is rather convenient that you happened to hear their plight without needing to exert yourself."  
  
"I know what you told Tom in your office, Headmaster," Snape said. "You were just trying to scare him, weren't you?"  
  
"He did need motivation to approach the matter, which in this case was in the form of Mr. Potter. However, some of what I said is true. Luckily, I have already talked with Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, and a few of the Professors. They all agree that no charges will be pressed against young Riddle. They will most likely be slightly wary of him for sometime, is all."  
  
"What about the Weasley family?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "I have scheduled a conference with them for tomorrow morning, one that Tom will be required to attend. Also, since Mr. Potter was indeed present for the whole of the ordeal, it will be his option whether he'd like to attend the meeting as well or not."  
  
"What about Potter's home life? I'm positive you heard the letter from that uncle of his."  
  
At this, Dumbledore's eyes only sparkled. "Ah, Severus, you will find that help may appear at the most needed times, in wonderful ways." With that said, Dumbledore turned and left the hospital wing, leaving a baffled Snape behind.  
  
After shaking off his questions, Snape decided it was time to do what he knew must be done. He quickly left the hospital wing, keen on finding out where Professor McGonagall had gotten to. He had something extremely important he needed to discuss with her.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Tom stretched and woke up to find sunrays hitting him directly on his face. His back was sore, and there was something pressing against his shoulder. When he woke up he found his raven haired counter part sleeping peacefully, looking at ease with the world, causing Tom to smile. Tom's gaze shifted to some clothes that had been laid out for him, and he nearly dropped Harry at what he saw. On his school robes, in place of the Slytherin crest, was the Gryffindor crest.  
  
Carefully, he shifted Harry so that he would comfortably be resting on his bed again. Then, he stood and padded over to his robe and found a note on top.  
  
Mr. Riddle,  
  
I assume by now you have found the present left for you from our dear potions professor, hm? He does indeed care about his students, and he was concerned for your well being in a house that doesn't seem to exactly suite you anymore.  
  
I'm afraid I do have an obligation to throw on your shoulders, however. I'd like to ask you to meet me in my office for a conference at 8:00 this morning. If you are not there, we will assume you are still asleep, and someone will be sent for you. Mr. Potter may attend as well if he wishes, though it is optional. If you are wondering about breakfast now, just look at the night table next to the bed.  
  
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore  
  
Tom placed the letter down, feeling slightly nervous. Deciding not to let the worry overtake him, though, he picked up a chocolate muffin from the tray on the table and started eating, waiting for half an hour to pass to signal the beginning of the meeting.  
  
(A/N: I was going to leave it here, but I didn't want you to think that everything was suddenly perfect again. HA! Nope, trouble's only just started for Tom, and things aren't quite mended between Harry and Tom. Sorry folks, there's still trouble in paradise. . . )  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Harry woke up, feeling disoriented and groggy. He stretched and took a deep breath to relieve the tension in his muscles. Big mistake. Pain coursed through Harry's body at an unbearable level, and though he fought it, a scream emitted from his lips. It echoed around the hospital wing, causing Tom to choke on his muffin, Draco to wake up and fall off his bed, and an unfortunate Ravenclaw, who had been in the room along with them, to wake sooner than she would have liked.  
  
"Arry, whaw wa fad? Wa da wawa?!" Tom groaned in frustration, not even able to understand himself with his mouth stuffed with muffin. Draco peered over at Harry's bed as well, curious as to what was going on.  
  
"Out of the way! You heard me, move it!" Madam Pomfrey barked as she sprinted toward the screaming boy's bed. Tom stood transfixed, unsure of what was going on.  
  
"What the heck happened to Potter?" Draco muttered to himself.  
  
"Repercussions," Madam Pomfrey muttered, mostly to herself. "Oh, he's in for a rough morning this morning."  
  
"What? What do you mean?" Tom asked, rushing to her side.  
  
"I mean, after the Cruciatus curse is cast, repercussions settle in the next day. The amount of time the repercussions last, and how painful they are, are determined by how much hate was used in the curse." She eyed Tom disapprovingly as she said this.  
  
Tom ignored her glare though. Nausea and fear had just settled into his stomach. He remembered the burning fury that he had felt when casting the curse. Shuddering he looked down at Harry in time to see his eyes widen in immense pain.  
  
"Is there anything you can do for him?!" Tom screamed, desperately.  
  
"No, the only thing that can be done now is to let the boy wait it out. If he-" Before Madam Pomfrey could finish, Harry emitted yet another blood curdling yell, and started to thrash desperately on the bed.  
  
It was at this time Dumbledore came into the room, his eyes softening in sorrow and sympathy. "Tom, it's time for you to go."  
  
"Now? But, what about Harry?" He whirled around when he heard Harry hiss out his name.  
  
"Why should you wait for me?" he said, with difficulty. "You obviously don't care about me at all, like I thought you did."  
  
Tom felt his blood freeze. He started to try to defend against it.  
  
"Don't even try to make up an excuse. I heard what Madam Pomfrey said, about the hate thing. You obviously desperately hate me, so just get away from me."  
  
"No, Harry, you don't understand-"  
  
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Harry screamed, before another repercussion caused him to convulse again.  
  
"Come Tom," Dumbledore said. "The Weasley's won't wait too long." Tom didn't even hear Dumbledore's words though. He didn't even notice that he was being lead away. All he noticed was the anger, pain, betrayal, and grief in Harry's eyes.  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Yes, I did read your reviews and I know you didn't want Harry to forgive Tom too soon. Harry did initially forgive Tom for it, yet it's actually going to get worse from this point for Tom. The entire next chapter is going to be Tom angst, where you'll find out the punishments for Tom's crimes. So it's not all good, it's actually going to get darker. Another thing, I will remind you that this IS NOT a slash. Harry and Tom will be pretty close to each other in the end, therefore they will be able to hug, but that does not imply anything. It's just a comforting gesture.  
  
Also, sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes. One of my beta readers, King Jasbon, did edit this chapter for me and I did manage to make some of the corrections, but for some reason my comp won't let me check my e-mail. . . probably cause of a new program my dad installed. Anyway, hopefully I'll be able to fix that soon. Once again, sorry for any stupid mistakes.  
  
Ok, time to answer reviews:  
  
wolf of Avalon: *looks extremely guilty* Ok, I was looking at who's reviews I responded to last time, and I didn't see your name there, and that made me feel really guilty. . . so here's my response a little late, heh. Thanks for the compliment! I'd like to know your great idea for Dying Angel! I'll keep writing if you tell me, deal? hehe.  
  
*insert blank space*: I'm sorry, really (not), hehe. I can't help it, I love it when chappies end with cliffies. Evil, no? Mwahahahaha. . .  
  
*insert another blank space, could be the same one*: Thanks, I will keep writing!  
  
padfoot rocks: Well, Voldemort is still out there, of course, and yep, Tom and him will come face to face. Definitely a showdown. I know you said that Tom and Harry shouldn't get along too well to begin with, and don't get the wrong impression by this chapter. It's actually probably going to take a couple chapters before they actually get along really well again. Now, what is this box again? *looks inside, then screams and stumbles backwards when a disturbing, curler wearing, blonde jumps out* NO!!!!!! NOT PABAM!!! PLEASE, HAVE MERCY!!!!!! *cries* Pabam: Ooo! My friend! Let's hold hands and sing now! Mars: *cries harder*  
  
Lunarian Amethyst: Thanks for the compliment! I don't know where Tinker Bell came from, probably some random act of my overly sugar high brain. I hope the info in the IM was enough about Merlin for you, but if you have any more questions, feel free to IM me or e- mail me at any time. Let me know when you post the fics, cause I'd love to read them!  
  
Cho Chang: Thanks, and don't worry. Lots of people have taken up challenge five. I actually have a list of who's doing what challenges under my author bio profile thing, if you're interested in knowing.  
  
Gabriella: Poor Tom, you'll hafta wait and see what happens to him until next chapter. As for Sirius, he'll turn up, just like in book three ^_^  
  
Pam Briggs: I've always been fascinated with Tom Riddle, and I always wondered what would happen if he lived and befriended Harry. I'm glad you like him too, cause next to Sirius, he's one of my favorite characters!  
  
Phoenix353: As I said up there, it may look like that Harry forgave Tom too easily, however it's only going to get darker for Tom and Harry. You're going to find out what happens to Tom next chapter, and Harry's pretty much going to be mad at him the whole time. Don't worry, you'll see what happens, heh.  
  
Gia: Thanks for all the reviews and support, lol. Thanks for taking up the challenge, and I'll be advertising it for you so you can get lots of reviews!  
  
Kattis Potter Black: Thanks, I hadn't seen plots really similar to this before, so I decided that I needed to change that, hehe.  
  
Enialedam: ^_^ happy now! Thanks to you too, and I just hope I don't run out of good ideas, heh.  
  
Sorry about the long wait for the update, I just wanted to make sure this was the direction I wanted it to go in afterwards. 


	6. True Loyalties

Little ten year old Tom scrubbed the floor furiously in his oversized clothes, his face so dirty that one would never guess his skin was normally pale white. If Mr. Wippel found any fault in the floor, he'd be in more trouble than one could imagine. Not wanting to think about possible punishments for slacking off, Tom worked harder, his bright green eyes looking around for any missed spots. The other children in the orphanage hated him, and treated him horribly. Not as bad as Mr. Wippel did, but still pretty bad.  
  
The other children were envious of his eyes. His bright green eyes stood out like a lantern in the darkness of the orphanage and prospective parents were always drawn to the brightness when they came to adopt. If it wasn't for the fact that Tom was Mr. Wippel's favorite punching bag, Tom would've been adopted years ago. Unfortunately, Wippel invented stories about Tom that dissuaded anyone from wanting him as their child.  
  
Tom was brought out of his musings when an owl of some sort flew through the orphanage window. He'd never seen an owl before and was quite surprised when it landed in front of him, offering him a letter attached to its leg. Accepting it carefully, Tom opened the envelope and read the letter. His eyes widened at what he read.  
  
He was a wizard. He was going to get away from the orphanage by going to a school to learn magic. In a daze, Tom sat back and grinned to himself. He'd get away from Mr. Wippel! He could learn how to turn Wippel into a frog, or toad, or bug, or anything he wanted to!  
  
"What's that you got there?" a gruff voice growled out. Tom paled several shades (though it wasn't visible) and started to tremble. "You think I don't know what that is?" an oily looking old man growled. "I've seen those before. You want to go off to learn magic, don't you?" A nearly seven foot tall old man now stood over the cowering youngster, one eye unseeing, both eyes cold as ice.  
  
"I-I-I didn't kn-know s-s-s-sir," Tom managed to stutter, " I-it just came a-a-and-"  
  
"SHUT UP!" Wippel bellowed, and quick as lightening his fist connected with the hurt child, sending him sprawling on the floor. He bent down and grabbed the child by the back of his shirt and hauled him up. An eerie grin appeared on his face. "Tell me, my boy. Do you know what happened to witches and wizards during the Salem witch trials?"  
  
Too afraid to speak, Tom shook his head 'no'.  
  
The old man grinned wider. "Why don't I show you? After all, I've always loved playing with fire. . ."  
  
The memory ended and the pensive swirled to show yet another. Memory by memory, the looks on the Weasley's faces grew more horror filled. Dumbledore studied their reactions carefully, some of the twinkle still present in his eyes. He had hoped that by showing the Weasley's some of Tom's past, they'd understand where he was coming from and what had caused him to act the way he had.  
  
Tom sat still through the whole thing, his head downcast. What gave these people the right to dig through his memories and life? What gave them the right to his most vulnerable moments of fear and pain? He knew the answer to that, but he still didn't like it. None of it mattered anyway. So Tom stayed quiet, waiting for them to finish.  
  
After enough had been seen, Molly Weasley was the first to look at Tom. Without a word, she stood up and walked over to him, enveloping him in a teary hug. Arthur Weasley gave him a look of sympathy, causing Tom to cringe. He hated sympathetic looks. . .  
  
"Of course, we'll explain it all to our children," Mrs. Weasley said, collecting herself. At the look of horror on Tom's face, she quickly added "No, no, dear, we won't tell them about your personal life. We'll just let them know why you're back, and how they should treat you."  
  
"Mind you, we'll have to keep this from Minister Fudge," Arthur said, gravely. "I'll do my best at the Ministry to cover up anything about you. But be warned, if anything fishy happens because of you, I won't hesitate to let them know who is behind it all." With that final warning, Arthur nodded to Dumbledore, then he and Molly left the room.  
  
Dumbledore sat down and popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "You see? I told you that the Weasley's are reasonable people. All is well, for now, and hopefully this day will not need to be mentioned ever again."  
  
Tom still looked glum, as if he had just been told he was going to Azkaban. He then whispered, barely audibly, yet loud enough for Dumbledore to just catch, "Why did Harry save me if I'm just going to be on my own forever?"  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Harry was still in the Hospital Wing, and still livid with Tom. The pain had mostly subsided, except the occasional aches and pains. Most of all, though, Harry was furious with himself. He spent the whole morning berating himself for telling Tom all about his summer, his household issues, his fears. . .could Tom have been acting the whole time, storing away Harry's personal turmoil to use against him later?  
  
Harry looked up when the door opened and Hermione walked in. She looked around for a moment, then smiled when she spotted him.  
  
"Harry! Ron and I were worried when we didn't see you at all this morning." She crossed the room and sat down on the chair next to his bed. "Malfoy was better though. Oh Harry, it was awful! He's putting on this huge show over that stupid injury of his from Buckbeak. Poor Hagrid's all upset; the Ministry might take Buckbeak away for disposal!"  
  
"That's horrible!" Harry exclaimed. "Leave it to Malfoy to mess everything up."  
  
"Ron would have been here too to visit you, but he tried to hex Malfoy in the hallway. He got caught by Snape and is currently cleaning out potion cauldrons with a paperclip." Harry winced. Snape always seemed to come up with the most horrible detentions. "Anyway, are you any better? Why have you been in here so long?"  
  
Harry proceeded to explain everything to her, including the events of the previous night (though leaving out the mention of the Dursley's). He then told her about the events of the morning, up to when Tom left shortly before Malfoy. Hermione looked horrified when he had finished.  
  
"And you didn't go to help defend him?!" She exclaimed.  
  
Harry looked shocked at her response. "Didn't you hear about what he did to me, and the hate he put into the curse? He must have really hated me to make it hurt so bad. Why should I help him if he hates me?"  
  
"Harry, I think he genuinely cares about you," Hermione said, soothingly. "I also think you're being too quick to judge. You must care about him, or else you wouldn't have confided in him or shown weakness in front of him. If you're going to abandon him like this, you also need to ask yourself why you saved his life down in the chamber. You're all he has right now, and if you leave him, he'll be left to go dark just like the first time. Now, I need to go help Hagrid with his case for Buckbeak. You think about what's the right thing to do." With that, she stood up and left Harry alone to his thoughts.  
  
Harry put his head in his hands, remembering the comforting words that Tom had spoken, less than twelve hours before. He remembered Tom rubbing his back and allowing him to cry on his shoulder, promising him protection from the Dursley's. He had seemed to sincere. . .Harry sighed, mind made up. Looking around to make sure that Madame Pomfrey wasn't around, he slipped out of his bed, pulled on his cloak, and started walking toward Dumbledore's office.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Tom walked forlornly through the hallways, not really sure where to go. Without Harry around, he just knew the other Gryffindors would torment him if he tried to go to his new Common Room. He couldn't go back to the Slytherin Dungeons with them all knowing that he was a half blood. Not to mention, the whole school probably knew of his house transfer by now.  
  
Sinking further into his depression, Tom walked further down the random hallway, only to nearly run into a limping figure.  
  
"Ow! Watch it! Can't you see I'm injured!" the person said, indignantly. Tom looked up to see Draco Malfoy cradling a heavily bandaged arm.  
  
"Sorry," Tom muttered. "I wasn't looking where I was going."  
  
"That's fine, I didn't know it was you anyway," Draco said, casually. "What was going on this morning? Why were you in the hospital wing? And why are you wearing a Gryffindor badge?"  
  
Tom realized that Draco hadn't heard the news, due to his confinement in the Hospital Wing. Thinking carefully, Tom decided to tell Draco about all that happened. Draco had been the next closest thing to a friend, other than Harry, and Tom decided that if he was meant to be truly friendless, he might as well get it over with.  
  
Draco listened without interrupting while Tom related his tale, and then smirked when Tom had finished. "Personally, I'm surprised you didn't do it sooner. If I had that kind of nerve, I would have don't it myself." Draco commented.  
  
Tom felt a twinge of remorse at hearing that comment, and it must of shown on his face, for Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
"Oh, come off it, Riddle. It's obvious that Potter doesn't care about you at all. He was just being a noble Gryffindor prat when he saved you down there. He was never your real friend anyway, I bet. Probably just wanted to gain your trust so he could go around bragging to his fans that he 'tamed Voldemort's past self' to get attention." Draco leaned over and took the badge off of Tom's robes. He replaced it with the Slytherin badge. "Trust me, Tom. You are a true Slytherin, and the heir of Slytherin from what you've told me. You belong in your house. It's YOUR house. If the others give you problems, just let me know, and together, we'll make them understand whose turf it really is."  
  
Seeing the uncertainty in Tom's eyes, Draco continued. "Besides, where else can you go? Potter hates you, remember?"  
  
Tom's eyes hardened in remembrance and he nodded gently. Draco was right. He'd only fit in with the other Slytherins. Harry hated him now. He had no other options left.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Harry was panting by the time he reached Dumbledore's office. Just as he was about to try a password to get inside, Dumbledore stepped out.  
  
"Why, hello Harry. What brings you this way?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes glittering knowingly.  
  
"Sir, I must ask, what happened to Tom? Is he alright?"  
  
"Yes, indeed. Mr. Riddle has been released and the whole fiasco has been covered. That is, of course, with your consent."  
  
Harry nodded his head feverishly. "Yes, of course it's alright with me. Do you know where Tom is, though? I don't know where to look for him."  
  
"I'm afraid not, my boy. He left my office just after the conference. You may want to try in the general direction of the Gryffindor Tower, however." With that said, Dumbledore started off down the hallway. Not questioning Dumbledore's advice, Harry started walking in that general direction, at a rapid pace.  
  
Fifteen minutes of walking later, he heard just a little ways up, the sound of Malfoy's voice, speaking to someone. He caught the words "Besides, where else can you go? Potter hates you, remember?" Panicked at what he knew he would find, Harry sped up and found Draco and Tom facing each other in the hallway. Draco had just extended his hand to Tom, and Tom was reaching to shake it, when Harry yelled out "That's not true!"  
  
Both boys looked up startled. Then Draco sneered at Harry. "You Gryffindors were never too good at lies, you know that Potter? What's wrong, sorry that your publicity stunt is up?"  
  
"You're one to talk, Malfoy!" Harry shot back. "You're the only one pulling stunts with the Hippogriff incident. You know you provoked Buckbeak to attack, and now you're going around milking it for everything you can!"  
  
"Trying to change the subject now, are you?" Draco sneered. He then turned back to Tom. "See? Typical Gryffindor. Come back to Slytherin, where you'll meet your true friends."  
  
Tom looked at Draco's eyes for a moment, then turned to Harry's warm, yet worried eyes. Looking between the two, he came to a conclusion. He took a step toward the person he had decided to swear allegiance to.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
"I can't believe it!" Ron seethed. "Cleaning cauldrons with a paperclip! That's unheard of, that is! It's even undoable! He said he wanted to see his reflection in them! I don't know why he'd want that, though. I mean, he is rather ugly."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes at his remark, then looked around the Common Room. "I wonder when Harry will be back. I could really use some help in research for Buckbeak's case." She smiled when her new cat, Crookshanks, leapt up on her lap and started purring. She quickly shooed him away when she saw the glare Ron was giving it.  
  
"I really don't like that cat, 'Mione," he said, for nearly the millionth time. "I mean, I think he's got it in for Scabbers."  
  
"That's absurd, Ron," Hermione said. "Crookshanks wouldn't target Scabbers on purpose."  
  
"Of course he would!" Ron said. "That cat's pure evil! There's something fishy about him, there is!" What could have been an ugly situation was quickly saved when the portrait swung open. Harry stepped in, looking tired and worn. It was obvious that he hadn't fully recovered.  
  
Harry started to walk over to them, but started to collapse. He would have fallen completely, but a pair of arms quickly caught him before he hit the ground. Tom Riddle eased him back up and helped him over to one of the couches. The entire room went silent at the sight of a Slytherin in their house room. Tom seemed to ignore that though.  
  
"Ron, Harry's still a bit tired. Can you help me get him up to his bed?" Ron nodded silently, and carefully went over to help with Harry. Hermione couldn't help but smile slightly when she saw the Gryffindor badge, worn proudly on Tom's robes, on their way up.  
Author's Notes: *looks down in guilt* I know it's been nearly five months. I didn't know what direction to take this in though. I caved in, in the end, and decided to let Tom go back with Harry. Be warned though, there is more Tom angst to come.  
  
Next chapter is The Boggart in the Wardrobe, and it'll continue along with the book again. Thanks to all of you who reviewed, and please keep reviewing. Reviews are sometimes the difference between me continuing with a fic or just trashing it. Hence the reason why Harry Potter and the Six Phoenixes died.  
  
I don't have time to acknowledge all reviewers at the moment, but if you have any questions, feel free to e-mail or IM me any time. 


	7. Interlude

Author's Notes: This is just a brief interlude, not the next chapter. I heard this song and immediately thought of Tom Riddle. This takes place after Tom helps Harry get to the dorm room, the night before their class with Lupin. Song versus will be in the *** areas along with the // marks.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything from the books mentioned. I also don't own Gollum's song, from Lord of the Rings.  
  
  
  
It was slightly past midnight as Tom Riddle sat up in bed, thinking. The rest of the room was fast asleep with the exception of Neville who was snoring like no one Tom had ever heard before. Well, he did rival at least with Crabbe nad Goyle. Tom usually was able to sleep at night, though there were certain nights that became difficult, yet tonight promised to be a night with little to no sleep. Images from the Pensieve that was shown to the Weasley's played over and over in his head, like and old horror movie that just wouldn't stop.  
  
Mr. Wippel was a person Tom had forced himself to not think about. The way he treated the orphans, especially Tom, was nothing short of brutal. Tom had wished so many times to find a way to escape, to cry out for help, to get revenge on Wippel. To kill him, that's what he had wanted, to kill him.  
  
*** //Where once was light, now darkness falls. Where once was love, love is no more. Don't say goodbye. . . don't say I didn't try. . .// ***  
  
Memories started to take form, clearer and clearer. After the first year at Hogwarts, Tom realized how wonderful the lives of other children were. In a world of magic, all of his dreams could come true, anything he wanted to happen could happen. The other students respected him, for he was a quick learner.  
  
The day he returned to the orphanage was one he would never forget. No matter how hard he had tried to block it out, it would remain implanted in his memory for years to come. Wippel had been very drunk that day. . .  
  
Tom remembered walking into the place he had escaped for three quarters of a year. Wippel was there, sitting in his chair as he always did. When he saw Tom, he laughed drunkenly.  
  
"So, back from that freak place, are you?" Tom simply nodded his head meekly. "Sit down!" came the gruff yell after. Tom quickly complied and sat down in the hard wooden chair. "You know something, brat? I have a little secret that I was saving to tell you when I really felt like messing you up. Do you know what that secret is?" Tom shook his head 'no', fear mounting by the second when he remembered the last time he had had a discussion with the crazed old man alone. "I'll tell you then. Your father is alive. He was just smart enough to figure out that you're a worthless brat not worth caring about!" Before Tom fully had time to register what he had been told, Wippel had taken out the leather belt again, and blows began to rain down.  
  
*** //These tears we cry, are falling rain, for all the lies you told us. The hurt, the blame. . .and we will weep, to be so alone. We are lost. . .we can never go home.// ***  
  
That night, after hearing the startling news that he had a living parent, Tom couldn't sleep. The painful whip lashes on his back didn't help the matter either. Tears fell of their own accord, not even noticed by the twelve year old boy as he struggled to process the information. He had a father, a living father. . .and that father had abandoned him and left him for dead. His own father had handed him over to Wippel to do with as he pleased. It was all his father's fault. . .  
  
That's when Tom started to feel a change in him. The grief was slowly being replaced by a mounting anger, an all consuming anger. He reached into his trunk of few possessions to pull out the only picture of his mother he had, for her picture always made him feel much better. As he looked at the picture, he saw her name in the bottom corner, where it had always been. Selena Fangleton was her name. Suddenly, something began to register in Tom's head. He pulled out his History of Magic text book and flipped the pages hurriedly, until he found the page on lineages of the four founders of Hogwarts. He located Salazar Slytherin and traced the line down the generations. His finger stopped when it reached the name he had suspected to find. Selena Fangleton.  
  
Then a new thought occurred to Tom. He was the only living heir of Slytherin. He was the heir of Slytherin, left to be beat upon by a mere muggle, left to be abandoned by a filthy muggle father. Tom didn't realize it at the moment, but a new inner transformation was beginning to take place.  
  
*** //So in the end, I'll be what I will be. No loyal friend was ever there for me. Now we say goodbye. We say, you didn't try.// ***  
  
The burning fury worsened as time went on. Tom's anger toward muggles only grew as his power grew, and the more he read about his ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, the more he realized how much their views were similar. Salazar had understood how awful muggles were, how dangerous, how misunderstanding. It was time for them to be punished for their sins against wizards, and Tom would be just the one to do so.  
  
He sat in school during fourth year with a blank piece of parchment, ready at last to discard his muggle name. TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE was at the very top, and underneath were his discarded ideas. Slowly, he started to write the sentence that the entire wizarding world would know in the not so distant future. I AM. . . I am who? The letters left over were odd, to say the least. With only an I an A, and an M taken away, that left T, O, M, R, V, O, L, O, R, D, D, L, and E. Looking through his book of Latin words, however, Tom found the answer he was seeking.  
  
Voldemort (adj.)- 1. Eater of death; used to describe demons and bringers of death. 2. Shadow of death; to pass over and take life.  
  
The summer after fifth year was when Voldemort struck for the first time. As he reentered the orphanage, the place that had tormented him for his entire life, a grin was plastered on his face. This was because he had spent all his spare time learning three of the most wonderful spells he had ever seen; Avada Kedevra, Cruciatus, and Imperius. It was time for Wippel to receive his just reward. The screams that went on for hours were the most beautiful thing that Tom had ever heard.  
  
*** //These tears you cry, have come to lay. Take back the lies, the hurt, the blame. . . and you will weep, when you face the end alone. You are lost, you can never go home. You are lost, you can never go home. . .// ***  
  
Tom shuddered and chocked back a horrified cry as he forced down his memories once more. Instinctively, he moved his hand to his shoulder where the worst injury he had ever received from Wippel had been. He nearly did yell out when he felt another hand rest over top of his. His eyes darted up only to meet Harry's. Along with the concern there he saw the understanding present again.  
  
"You're thinking about the past, aren't you?" whispered Harry. Tom simply nodded. "You know, Tom, the word past means just that. It's behind you. It's over."  
  
"But it isn't! Harry, I've killed at least ten people already! It's all because of my temper; I can't control it sometimes. What if I try to hurt you or someone else here?"  
  
Harry sat on the edge of Tom's bed so they could face each other. "Tom, I know I was angry at you before. I'm still a little upset about what happened even now. But the truth is, I know you almost as well as I know myself. I also know that you've changed now for the better. The incident with Malfoy proved that. You need to learn to trust yourself just as much as I trust you." Harry paused for a moment, then added. "I know how it feels to be hurt by someone who should have been taking care of you."  
  
"You mean. . .you too?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yes. Before Hogwarts, my uncle used to hurt me a lot. It used to be the occasional smacking around or push into the wall or punch to the chest. As time went on, it turned into leather belts, metal pipes, wooden sticks, whatever happened to be lying around. When I started coming here, it stopped though. He was too afraid of me. Anyway, Tom, I won't make you tell me what happened to you. You can tell me when you're ready. For now, we should go to sleep so we can be ready for DADA tomorrow, ok?" Tom nodded his head, feeling better after talking to Harry. As he fell asleep, with Harry's bed next to his, he felt the screams of the past drown out within the crimson folds of his pillow.   
Author Notes: I wanted to write a little interlude (This is NOT the next chapter) after hearing Gollum's song on the Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers sound track. It reminded me so much of what Tom must have been thinking as he became Voldemort. I also wrote this due to many questions over whether Harry was abused before. Hope this answers that. I'm almost done with the next chapter, so I'll update soon! Please review! 


	8. The Boggart In The Wardrobe a

After breakfast the next morning, the Gryffindors had potions to look forward to. Harry and Ron shared a scowl at the prospect of it, while Tom wondered worriedly what would happen. Malfoy had seemed quite scandalized to have lost the heir of Slytherin as his newest lackey, and Snape obviously favored Malfoy above the other students. Would he treat Tom just as horribly as the other Gryffindors or would he continue to be civil? Tom had little doubt about his behavior.  
  
During class, the entire Slytherin side of the room swarmed around Draco to hear his tale of heroism against the dreaded Hippogriff.  
  
"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"  
  
"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Harry saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.  
  
"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape, idly. Tom muttered under his breath along with most of the Gryffindors, but they made sure to keep it low so as to not earn themselves detentions that consisted of cauldrons and paperclips.  
  
Snape had ordered them to set up their cauldrons and to prepare to make a new potion, the shrinking solution. Malfoy set up his cauldron right next to Tom Riddles, giving him sneers when he was sure he wouldn't be caught.  
  
"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm-"  
  
"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots," Snape ordered, with his head still bent over grading some poor Hufflepuff's essay.  
  
Ron spluttered indignantly. "He's on a completely different work table!"  
  
Snape looked up and glared icily, though he too noticed the great difference in space. If he didn't want to have to deal with another one of Dumbledore's lectures on fairness between houses, he knew he would need to select someone else.  
  
"Very well. Mr. Malfoy, prepare your other ingredients first, then I will assist you in any cutting that need be done."  
  
"Sir, couldn't Tom here do it for me, seeing as his cauldron is right next to mine?" Malfoy suggested, coyly.  
  
Harry silently fumed. So that's what Malfoy was up to. He wanted Snape to order Tom to do Malfoy's bidding so that Malfoy could have the sick pleasure of watching 'The Dark Lord' take orders from him. Harry was about to jump to Tom's defense, when Snape spoke up.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, the transition between houses has been quite rough on Mr. Riddle, therefore I believe it would be best to let him concentrate on his own work."  
  
Tom looked up, hardly daring to believe what it was that he had heard. He was certain that Snape hated his guts, and that he hated him even more for switching houses. He was definitely going to have a talk with Dumbledore to find out what was up.  
  
Tom was brought out of his thoughts when he heard whimpers coming from Neville Longbottom. The contents of his cauldron were orange, when they really were supposed to be-  
  
"Lime green! LIME GREEN! Does this look ANYWHERE close to lime green I ask you!" Snape bellowed, using a ladle to slosh the pathetic potion for emphasis. "I said ONE spleen, a DASH of leech juice, and a little bit of brain power! Why do you insist of failing every single time!"  
  
Neville's bottom lip was quivering as though he were trying not to cry.  
  
"You shouldn't do that, you know," Tom said quietly, his eyes fixed icily on Snape's head.  
  
Snape turned around to confront him. "What did you say?!"  
  
"I said you shouldn't do that. You are an adult and our professor, therefore responsible for our well being. When adults abuse their power over children it can have undesirable consequences."  
  
Harry immediately caught on to what Tom was saying, and he eyed Snape carefully to see his reaction.  
  
Snape had paled fractionally, but made no scathing remark or comeback, much to the dismay of his Slytherins. "Continue working," was all he said before he turned on his heel went back to his desk.  
  
The class was surprisingly uneventful for the rest of the time there, and Snape didn't even make one last bitter comment when the bell rang. The students gratefully left their seats to go to lunch.  
  
"I wonder what got into Snape," Ron commented, offhandedly, "I mean, that's got to be one of the best potion classes I've had, though I can't really say any of them are truly great, now can I?" Harry and Tom nodded their agreement.  
  
"What about you Hermione?" Harry asked, turning slightly to look at her. To his shock, she was gone.  
  
"Hermione?" Harry and Ron said, in unison, looking around for their friend. While they were looking behind them, Tom was looking at the nearby stair case, that Hermione was running down. A small smile of knowing appeared on his lips, but he simply nodded in her direction.  
  
"Hello, Hermione. Nice to see we didn't lose you after all."  
  
"What? Lose me? Oh-oh yes, that's right. Well, um. Shall we get to lunch then?"  
  
As she and Tom walked on as though nothing bizarre had just happened, Ron leaned over to speak with Harry.  
  
"You get the feeling she's not telling us something?"  
  
  
  
Author Notes: *Cringes and hides* I know, it's been ages. Summer was really busy though. My sister's been quite ill. I also am pursuing my own writing career, and am working on a story that I've been working on for nearly four years now. Hopefully it'll be done before I graduate from High School. heh.  
  
I'll try to get the next chapter out soon. THANK YOU REVIEWERS FOR ALL OF YOUR WONDERFUL SUPPORT! YOU ROCK! Please read and review everyone! 


	9. The Boggart In The Wardrobe a2

When the four Gryffindors reached the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom, the new teacher had not yet arrived. The students picked out seats and pulled out their classroom supplies timidly, unsure what this year's professor would have in store.  
  
A few minutes later, Professor Lupin entered the room, looking slightly breathless, swinging his tattered suitcase at his side.  
  
"Sorry I'm late, everyone. I got held up a bit." He gave the class a brief smile as he plopped the suitcase on his desk. He then turned around to face the class and noticed all of their school supplies.  
  
"You may put those away, you will not be needing those. Only your wand is required for this class."  
  
Harry, Tom, Ron, and Hermione exchange unsure looks before they dumped their belongings back in their cauldrons.  
  
"Right then. If you all would be so kind as to follow me," Lupin said, lightly. He walked to the door and waited for a moment as the class scrambled to follow him. Then, with a flourish, they were off down the hallway.  
  
"I wonder where he's going," Hermione murmured, softly.  
  
"This is the way to the teacher's lounge," Tom said. "I wonder what he has down there."  
  
As the class turned the corner, Peeves the poltergeist came into view. He was floating in the air and trying to rotate his foot clockwise while drawing a number six in the air.  
  
Lupin spotted him and chuckled. "Peeves, I've told you a million times that that is impossible to do," he scolded.  
  
Peeves looked up and grinned. "Why, it's Loony Moony Lupin!" He cackled wickedly. "Does the ickle Professor remember the dealy wealy we made in school times?"  
  
Lupin smiled again. "Of course." He reached into his tattered robe and pulled out a Filibuster's firework, then handed it to Peeves.  
  
Peeves cackled merrily and greedily took the firework before he zoomed away. When Professor Lupin turned back around, the entire class was watching him with a mixture of curiosity, amazement, amusement, and scolding.  
  
"Professor, you have a deal with Peeves?" Dean asked, in awe.  
  
Lupin had the decency to blush. "My friends and I were quite the pranksters in my school days. We made a little deal with Peeves, so he wouldn't play tricks on us. We just had to help supply him with his toys."  
  
"So THAT'S why he never picks on Fred and George," Ron said, with dawning realization. "No fair! Wait till I tell Mum. . ."  
  
Lupin cleared his throat. "Right then, let's get back to what we're here for. If you'd just step right this way." Lupin opened the door and gestured for everyone to step inside.  
  
As they entered, Harry and Tom could see Snape was occupying one of the armchairs. He was watching the class disgustedly, though he strangely seemed to avoid looking at Tom. Tom stored that little piece of information away to look at later.  
  
As Professor Lupin made to shut the door, Snape spoke up. "Leave it open, Lupin, I'd rather not remain here to see this." He stalked across the room, his robes billowing menacingly as ever. As he reached the door, he paused to make one last remark. "And by the way, Longbottom is in this class. Whatever it is you plan on doing, be sure to keep him in a barricaded, separate area." With a final sneer, he disappeared.  
  
Neville had gone scarlet, but Lupin gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't you mind him," he comforted. "In fact, just to prove him wrong, let's say you go first at what we're going to do today, huh?"  
  
Neville looked as though he'd rather not go first at all, if his frantic head shaking was anything to go by, but Lupin only smiled warmly and said "Good, good. Now, let's get started."  
  
Lupin walked toward the end of the room where a cabinet stood, and the class tentatively followed him. Lupin knocked on the cabinet three times and was rewarded with a resounding bump and thud from the inside. He gave a satisfied nod, though the rest of the class looked quite startled. Neville was already starting to turn several shades paler.  
  
"No need to be alarmed," Lupin assured. "Inside this wardrobe is a Boggart. Can anyone tell me what a boggart is?" Hermione raised her hand immediately. "Ms. Granger?"  
  
"A Boggart is a shapeshifter that turns into your worst fear," she explained. "They are shapeless, sitting in the darkness until they see a face. That's when they shift. If they see too many faces, they may become confused."  
  
"Very good Ms. Grang-"  
  
"They first appeared in England cerca 1000A.D. They are related to the Bogey, Boogieman, and Brownie."  
  
"That's correct. Five points to Gryffin-"  
  
"The only way to drive away a Boggart is by casting the Riddikulus spell, which changes the Boggart into a funny form. Boggarts hate laughter, so when laughter is present after the funny shape occurs, it will flee."  
  
This time Lupin waited until he was sure that Hermione was finished, then he chuckled. "Entirely correct, Ms. Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor."  
  
Hermione beamed happily while Ron muttered 'show off'. Tom simply shook his head in amusement and waited to see what was going to happen next.  
  
"Neville," Lupin turned to Neville who was practically quaking with terror. "Be sure to remember the spell Riddikulus. Now, I want you to get a picture of your grandmother in you mind."  
  
"O-ok," he said, uncertainly.  
  
"Good. Now I want you to think about what she normally wears."  
  
Neville nodded his head after shutting his eyes for a moment.  
  
"Now, I'm going to open this door. Keep that picture in mind while saying your spell. Ready?"  
  
Neville was about to say 'no' when Lupin pulled open the door anyway.  
  
To the shock of the entire class, Professor Snape sprang from the closet. He was at his most menacing, and his eyes held an almost mad look in them as he began to slowly advance.  
  
"YOU STUPID GOOD FOR NOTHING!" He bellowed at Neville. "YOU'LL NEVER AMOUNT TO ANYTHING, YOU WASTE OF A LIFE! IF ONLY YOUR PARENTS COULD SEE YOU NOW-"  
  
Neville, who looked more terrified than ever before uttered in a squeak, "Riddikulus!" In a flash of blue light, and a whip crack going through the air, Snape was suddenly wearing a long, lace trimmed dress and a towering hat with a moth eaten vulture on it. On his right arm he was swinging a bright red hand bag.  
  
The class roared with mirth, confusing the Boggart. It then lunged at Parvati. A blood stained mummy stood where Snape had been, but with another Ridikulus, it unwrapped itself. It went around the room, changing into a giant spider when it reached Ron. After it had come to nearly everyone, Lupin was about to gather it back into the closet, when it made a lunge toward Harry.  
  
Tom, having a bad feeling as to what Harry's worst fear was, threw himself in front of Harry, and watched in morbid fascination as the Boggart changed into his worst fear. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
Author Notes: Ok, I dunno what's up with Fanfiction.net, but it wouldn't let me post the entire last chapter. So here's part two of part a. . . if that's not too confusing. Please read and review! I'll make you all wait another four months unless I get reviews! Mwahahaha! 


	10. New Chapter Beginning and Important AN!

Author Notes: First of all BIG apology for the long wait. My comp caught a virus that deleted EVERYTHING from Microsoft works and I couldn't even type anything. For more detail, see the author note after this part of the story. This isn't the whole chapter cause I'm still trying to find the rest of it, but this is a sample of what's to come. The full chapter will be posted TOMORROW for sure, so check back for it!  
  
Harry fell back in surprise, unsure of what Tom was doing. The class watched with baited breath, eager to see what the young Dark Lord's greatest fear was. The Boggart started to changing, growing wider and shorter, dropping out of sight of most of the students, thanks to Professor Lupin blocking their view. Neville Longbottom gave a startled squeak and pointed at the form before Lupin jumped in front of it, causing it to change into a glowing orb of some sort, before he vanquished it. The class immediately erupted in chatter.  
  
"Did you see it?"  
  
"No, did you?"  
  
"What was it?"  
  
"It made Neville squeak!"  
  
"Everything makes Neville squeak!"  
  
Professor Lupin cleared his throat, successfully earning the class' attention.  
  
"All of you wait outside for a moment. I just need to have a word with Mr. Riddle for a moment, please." Tom and Harry exchanged a nervous glance before Tom made his way over to the new professor. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the class outside to wait in the hallway.  
  
Once the door was shut, everyone whirled to face Neville who looked like a deer that found itself amidst a wolf pack. Demands to know about what the boggart was rained down, causing him to stutter and stammer.  
  
"Neville, come on! WHAT was it!" Dean finally demanded above the other voices.  
  
"It was Old Scratch!" Neville finally blurted out. "That's what it was. Old Scratch!"  
  
The class' eyes widened before they murmured in understanding, nodding their heads. Harry glanced at Ron curiously, not understanding.  
  
"Old Scratch is sort of like the devil," Ron explained, in low tones. "Legend has it that if a creature of the Earth ever somehow possesses more evil than Old Scratch himself, he'll come riding up on a black horse, throw what or whoever it is onto the horse, and take him away to never be seen again. I never was scared of him, of course, cause I'm not that evil. Tom, though. . . I can see why he'd be scared."  
  
"He's supposed to be really ugly too, the most hideous being to ever exist," Hermione added. "No wonder Neville was scared."  
  
Harry felt a stab of pity for Tom, but pushed it aside when he noticed Neville motioning for him. Once he reached Neville, Neville looked around to make sure no one else was listening before he spoke in a hushed tone.  
  
"Harry, I lied. . .Tom isn't really scared of Old Scratch," Neville started nervously.  
  
"Then why did you say that to everyone," Harry asked, confused.  
  
"Because, it's sort of personal I think," Neville started. "And it involves you. See Harry, Tom's boggart turned into a dead, bloody body of you."  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
Author's Notes: This isn't the end of the update, I still have more to upload. This is just the beginning of this chapter. I can not apologize enough for taking so long. My comp caught a virus called Trojan horse that infected my computer with 36 other viruses. I haven't been able to type anything since September. I've also been very ill lately, so I haven't been motivated to type. Thank you to all my loyal reviewers; you definitely guilted me into trying to get my computer running again. As to the charge from under the updating act, I am quite guilty. Thank you also to Linda Kristen Smith for persistently reviewing and giving me guilt gut. The next chapter will be dedicated to you ^_^ Check back REALLY soon for an update, cause this measly thing is NOT a real update. 


	11. The Boggart and Animagus Transformations

Harry fell back in surprise, unsure of what Tom was doing. The class watched with baited breath, eager to see what the young Dark Lord's greatest fear was. The Boggart started to changing, growing wider and shorter, dropping out of sight of most of the students, thanks to Professor Lupin blocking their view. Neville Longbottom gave a startled squeak and pointed at the form before Lupin jumped in front of it, causing it to change into a glowing orb of some sort, before he vanquished it. The class immediately erupted in chatter.  
  
"Did you see it?"  
  
"No, did you?"  
  
"What was it?"  
  
"It made Neville squeak!"  
  
"Everything makes Neville squeak!"  
  
Professor Lupin cleared his throat, successfully earning the class' attention.  
  
"All of you wait outside for a moment. I just need to have a word with Mr. Riddle for a moment, please." Tom and Harry exchanged a nervous glance before Tom made his way over to the new professor. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the class outside to wait in the hallway.  
  
Once the door was shut, everyone whirled to face Neville who looked like a deer that found itself amidst a wolf pack. Demands to know about what the boggart was rained down, causing him to stutter and stammer.  
  
"Neville, come on! WHAT was it!" Dean finally demanded above the other voices.  
  
"It was Old Scratch!" Neville finally blurted out. "That's what it was. Old Scratch!"  
  
The class' eyes widened before they murmured in understanding, nodding their heads. Harry glanced at Ron curiously, not understanding.  
  
"Old Scratch is sort of like the devil," Ron explained, in low tones. "Legend has it that if a creature of the Earth ever somehow possesses more evil than Old Scratch himself, he'll come riding up on a black horse, throw what or whoever it is onto the horse, and take him away to never be seen again. I never was scared of him, of course, cause I'm not that evil. Tom, though. . . I can see why he'd be scared."  
  
"He's supposed to be really ugly too, the most hideous being to ever exist," Hermione added. "No wonder Neville was scared."  
  
Harry felt a stab of pity for Tom, but pushed it aside when he noticed Neville motioning for him. Once he reached Neville, Neville looked around to make sure no one else was listening before he spoke in a hushed tone.  
  
"Harry, I lied. . .Tom isn't really scared of Old Scratch," Neville started nervously.  
  
"Then why did you say that to everyone," Harry asked, confused.  
  
"Because, it's sort of personal I think," Neville started. "And it involves you. See Harry, Tom's boggart turned into a dead, bloody body of you."  
  
When Tom and Professor Lupin left the room, Harry decided he wouldn't ask about the boggart. If Tom felt like telling him, he would tell him in his own time.  
  
"That's the best defense against dark arts class we ever had!" Ron crowed, happily. He, Harry, Tom, and Hermione were heading back toward the classroom to pick up their books.  
  
"Just dandy," Tom muttered under his breath.  
  
"I wish, though, that I could have had a turn with the boggart," Hermione sighed.  
  
"What would your worst fear have been?" Ron sniggered. "A paper that only got 9 out of 10?"  
  
Hermione glared and started to thoroughly smack Ron.  
  
Once all four students had their bags, Tom stopped them in an empty hallway. "We have a break before some of our other classes, right?" When the others nodded, he smiled brightly. "Good, then follow me!" He started off down the hallway, toward the grand staircase. Looking at each other in curiosity before shrugging and following, the trio followed Tom's retreating back.  
  
Tom hurried down a flight of stairs to the second floor. He immediately headed toward the girl's bathroom.  
  
"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?" Ron asked, in disgust. "No way do I want to spend my free time in there!"  
  
"Trust me, it'll be well worth it," Tom urged. The others grumbled a little bit, but followed none the less.  
  
Once inside, Tom headed straight for the sink that would lead into the Chamber of Secrets.  
  
Harry started to feel a little nervous. "Tom, what are you doing? Why are you going there?"  
  
Tom sighed and walked close to Harry, lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear. "Harry, I know we haven't been friends very long, and you don't have much of a reason to trust me. But please try? I promise you on my most excellent promise I will never again hurt you or your friends."  
  
Harry grinned. "That's good enough for me."  
  
Smiling back at Harry, Tom hissed at the opening and waiting for it to show the hidden tunnel. Ron and Hermione looked as though they were having second thoughts, but if they were, they weren't voicing them.  
  
"Follow me," Tom ordered. With that, he slid down the tunnel, with Harry, Hermione, and Ron close behind.  
  
The first thing Harry expected to find when he reached the ground was to see little skeletons and globs of slime everywhere. That's why he was pleasantly shocked when his feet met a clean, shiny stone floor and the air smelled rotting corpse free. Hermione stared in awe at the place, only seeing it for the first time, and Ron gave a whistle of approval.  
  
Tom chuckled, pleased at their reactions. "Wait till you guys see the rest of it!"  
  
The halls that had been long neglected were crisp and clean, newly painted, and not so dank. Torches and fires were lit everywhere, warming the air in severe contrast to how cold it had been before. Furniture, such as couches and comfortable chairs were scattered here and there with a few tables, desk chairs, and rugs. There was no sign that a basilisk had ever lived there.  
  
"So. . .how do you like it?" Tom asked, smiling slightly.  
  
"It's great!" Harry exclaimed, in delight. "I can't believe what you've done with the place! Why did you do all this though?"  
  
"And when?" Hermione scolded. "Don't tell me you've been skipping class to do this."  
  
"Relax mini McGonagall, I haven't been skipping. This didn't take too long at all really. Some quick cleaning spells and transfiguration spells was really all it was."  
  
"Well, whatever it was, it was bloody brilliant!" Ron said, his mouth still hanging wide open. Hermione glared at him in mock disgust before forcefully shutting his mouth for him.  
  
"This isn't all there is to my little surprise," Tom continued, his voice mischievous sounding.  
  
"What else is there?" Harry asked feeling excited.  
  
"Well, I mentioned it to you once, but you probably don't remember. You'll find out soon enough though!" Tom turned and started running down one of the corridors. Not wanting to be left behind, (not to mention being curious about the whole thing) Harry, Ron and Hermione started to run after him.  
  
Tom finally stopped running when they reached a small, round room. In the center of the room was a cauldron over a fire, simmering and steaming. The liquid inside it was glowing a sort of silver purple; it smelled like a mix of peppermint and lemon.  
  
"What's that?" Harry asked, gazing at it in a mixture of awe and trepidation.  
  
"Wait a minute. . ." Hermione started, comprehension starting to show. "Is that-"  
  
"My friends," Tom said, jovially, "anyone feel like becoming an animagus?"  
  
  
  
In less than half an hour, a stag, an orange Labrador, a brown wolf, and a snake were thoroughly exploring the new and improved Chamber of (not so many) Secrets. Tom, as a snake, was coiled around Harry, the stag's, neck and very much enjoying the ride. Hermione, as a wolf, was leading the way with her superior senses and Ron was sniffing at everything and barking at random things.  
  
Suddenly, all four of them began to glow and they were back to their original forms. They took one look at each other before bursting out laughing.  
  
"That was fantastic!" Ron hooted. "I want to do that again!"  
  
"Well, the potion was supposed to help us learn how the transformation is supposed to feel. It also gives you the image of your animagus form to picture while changing," said Tom.  
  
"I wonder what made us change into what we did," Harry said, thoughtfully.  
  
"Well, Hermione is quite smart, yet she has a wild, courageous side. That makes her a wolf. Ron is loyal, though quick to act instead of thinking things out. That makes him a dog. You, Harry, are protective of your friends, powerful, and wise, so you're a stag. Me, well. . .isn't it obvious?"  
  
"Why would a stag symbolize power, though?" Harry asked, confused.  
  
"The stag is the king of the forest," Hermione said. "It's one of the noblest creatures. You should feel honored, Harry."  
  
Harry smiled, already liking his new form.  
  
"What do you guys say to coming back here to practice every night around 8:00?" Tom asked.  
  
"Sounds good!" Ron said, immediately.  
  
"What about school work?" Hermione asked, worriedly.  
  
"Hermione!" the three boys groaned in exasperation, in unison.  
  
  
  
Author Notes: One more big sorry from me! I tried to load this yesterday, but it kept saying my file was invalid. I don't know why though. This is my first day on my new computer, so here's hoping everything goes well.  
  
I'll try to update really soon, to make up for this long wait. Review, and thank you to all the faithful readers! 


	12. Sonnet 18

**_Author's Note:_**

This fic has been updated! It is now under the title of **Sonnet 18**. It's going to be very different from this prototype, which is why I'm leaving this up here. Below is a snippet of the new version, which I encourage you to read and review. Thanks for your patience!

* * *

_I hate you._

Rolling his eyes, Harry slammed shut the battered diary that lie open upon his bed. If Riddle wanted to be moody, he could be moody by himself – Harry had enough to worry about, what with going back to the Dursley's tomorrow and everything. Looking over the edge of his bed, where his trunk stood readily packed, he mentally double-checked that he would be able to wake-up, stuff himself at breakfast, then go without fear of leaving anything behind. Though there was one thing he wouldn't mind leaving…

_I hate you_. The diary had flipped itself back open, presenting page 35, near the middle. Riddle's usually precise handwriting, slanted slightly to the right and curling with artistic flare, was sloppy and jagged – his tantrum coming through his writing. Of course, Harry could understand why Riddle would have cause for being upset. Honestly, he wouldn't much like being trapped in a banged up old book by himself either.

"I could have let you die, you know," Harry muttered at the book, while drawing the curtains around his bed. "I didn't _have_ to save you."

Riddle didn't answer. By now, Harry knew that Tom could hear him through the pages… that writing wasn't necessary to communicate with the young Dark Lord. Not that Harry was foolish enough to try a quill – after learning how Ginny had come to be possessed, he certainly wasn't going to risk the same fate, brought on by sheer stupidity. Hermione would be fairly proud.

Sighing, Harry firmly closed the diary again, using an old sock to bind it shut. Tucking it under his pillow, where the weight of his head could hold it down if need be, he warily laid down to rest for his last night in Hogwarts as a second year. "'Night Tom," he muttered, half to spite and half to soothe to seething disembodied youth.

"Mwa?" Ron's sleepy mutter came from beyond the red curtains, obviously already half asleep.

"I said, 'Goodnight Ron,'" Harry lied, listening for his friend's accepting murmur, followed by steady snoring. It was a small lie, but Harry found himself wondering how many of these lies he would have to tell in order to protect what should likely be destroyed.


End file.
